


Marco Something Something Jean

by ToddCameron



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Heavy Angst, M/M, Manga Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-03-05 06:49:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 34,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3110117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToddCameron/pseuds/ToddCameron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a story from Marco's POV about the entirety of his relationship with Jean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Decisions

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at published fan fiction. I'm not sure what story I wanted to tell, but I love Attack on Titan so much, and strangely enough, Jean/Marco.

31 August 850

"Fucking Yeager," Jean said the moment Marco slipped into his view. Marco steeled himself for the tiresome diatribe that was likely to ensue. He briefly considered walking away from the table, but he knew all Jean would do is eventually lash out if denied his chance to vent.

Marco took his seat next to Jean, and immediately began staring at the surface of the table before him. He waited for Jean to start ranting, but after a couple of moments of silence, he looked at his friend. Jean was staring at him, his face a bit more pissed off-looking than a second ago.

"What?" Marco asked as the silence deepened.

"Y'know, Marco, I gotta say, for someone who's going to make it into the Military Police tomorrow, you sure do look like you just got fucking convinced by Eren Fucking Yeager that you should throw your life away," Jean said, lifting his mug to his mouth to take a swig of ale.

Marco started at Jean's calmly delivered statement. Blinking his eyes a few times, Marco gathered himself up. He always thought of Jean as someone who had great intuition in terms of strategy, but not as someone good at detecting another person's thoughts or intentions. He never seemed to pick up on Marco's crush on the other boy, after all. So Jean noticing how much Eren's speech had affected him was surprising.

"I haven't done anything of the sort," he mumbled back. His gaze moved to one of the exits of the dining hall, the one that Eren had run through at the end of his rant, quickly followed by Mikasa and Armin. He then shifted his eyes to Thomas, the victim of Eren's wrath, who was now having a deep discussion with Mina and Samuel. Looking around further, he saw many of the other newly graduated cadets speaking in far softer tones than they'd been just two minutes ago, when there had been a general sense of excitement and accomplishment. Marco marveled at how Eren always seemed to be able to turn an entire room's mood around in a second. 

"No?" Jean responded. "Somehow I don't believe you." Marco said nothing, but looked back at Jean's face, and noticed the rising fury in Jean's expression, though he was managing to keep himself contained. Jean was rare to lash out at Marco, after all. 

"I guess since everybody else seems about ready to follow that suicidal maniac right into a Titan's mouth, I shouldn't expect anything less from you, huh?" Jean continued to stare daggers at him.

"Jean," Marco said softly, "I am not going to follow anybody." _Except you_ , he thought.  _Though I don't know why_.

 "Hmph," Jean snorted. He looked away from Marco, and stared straight ahead.

"I... Eren, he makes some good points."

"Right. Like how he will kill... Every. Last. One. God, that kid is a fucking nut."

"He's driven," Marco sighed. "He wants what we all want, a world free from this... oppression. He just doesn't compromise."

"Are you trying to say something about me?"

"Of course not, Jean," Marco sighed again. "You have your own drive. It's just different in nature."

"Go ahead and say it. It's more selfish." Jean looked again in Marco's direction. Marco started again. Jean was so often so blunt, and even after three years of friendship, it could still startle him.

"I... I wouldn't say it's more selfish, per se, but maybe more... realistic?"

"Yeah, whatever." Jean took another swig. "I have never been ashamed of being all about number one. I want a comfortable life in the interior. If the fucking Titans return, I want to be as safe as I can, for as long as I can. I sure as hell don't want to be out there leading the way to the fall of humanity. I'm no martyr."

Marco looked away from Jean and into his own drink. "I don't want to be a martyr, either, Jean. I just... Do you remember, last year, when you and Eren had that fight?"

"Care to narrow that down a bit?" Connie interrupted. The shorter boy took a seat on Marco's other side, quickly followed by Sasha, who took up a seat across from him. Marco smiled at the two of them, as he hoped that their normally silly manner could take away from all the confusing feelings he was experiencing, and this awkward conversation with Jean. 

Jean harrumphed again, glancing disgustedly at the new arrivals. Marco took mental note, as always looking for clues that Jean enjoyed time alone with him. He withheld another sigh, not wanting to get himself depressed in another direction.  _You've really got to get over him, Marco_.

There was an awkward silence for a few moments, and then Connie spoke up to fill in the gap, having realized he had derailed the conversation. "Maybe Eren has a point! Maybe I should join the Scouts."

"Yeah, you should!" Sasha declared, munching on a bit of bread. Marco momentarily wondered where that had come from, as there were only beverages being served at the celebration, as far as he could tell. "I might do so too. I mean, if I go out there and kill Titans and clear the way, I can probably claim some good territory for owning a cattle ranch. Not that it's my forte, husbandry, hunting's more my thing--"

"We know!" Connie interrupted.

"--but just think of the steaks, and roasts, and ribs..."

"You have a one-track mind there, Braus," Reiner said as he walked up behind her. He gestured for her to move over, and took a seat himself, joined by the ever trailing Bertolt. Unbidden, Marco suddenly recalled something Jean had told him: "I don't know who's creepier, Armin following Eren around, or Bertolt following Reiner."

Once Reiner sat down, it seemed to draw Krista and Ymir over as well. Even Annie quietly slid in on Jean's left. It was kind of weird, all of them being seated at once at the same table. Normally, at their usual training facility far outside the city of Trost, the tables were not wide enough to fit so many. Their "clique" was never as "official" as it appeared at the moment, even with Eren, Mikasa, and Armin gone.

Marco sighed again, failing to stop himself this time. He retreated into his own thoughts as the others began talking about Sasha and food. The idea that he was a member of a clique seemed completely absurd to him, but he couldn't really deny it. Somehow, as the skill levels of the cadets seemed to come out, their little group of twelve "elite" began to gather together, despite some major frictions among them. Jean and Eren being the biggest of course. 

Marco looked at each of his friends, and considered them in turn, contemplating the question lingering in his mind. He looked first at Annie, the most enigmatic of them, whose eyes always seemed so dead. He wasn't even sure that Annie would agree to being called a friend. Marco always wondered what it was that made her put up a front of such boredom. Presumably something with the Titans five years ago traumatized her, but she was so very tight-lipped in general, Marco hadn't really been able to figure her out very much at all. He could see she was holding back a lot in those moments when the glaze on her eyes fell away. Like right now. She wasn't saying anything, but was clearly paying close attention. She always stated her intention to join the Military Police in such a matter-of-fact way. There was nothing to indicate her decision had changed, but why come over?

 "Look, Potato Girl," Jean began, forcing a look of horror on Sasha's face and an automatic "I thought everybody had forgotten about that!" "You can get all the meat you want in the interior. Let the suicidal maniacs liberate the lands beyond. You'll be sitting on a pile of food without having to lift a finger, though I guess you might end up getting as fat as someone who eats as much as you do should be."

Marco looked at Sasha, who seemed to take pride in that statement. He wondered about Sasha's decision. It wasn't something she mentioned much, but he had always just assumed it was default for everyone to want to join the Military Police. Well, except Eren. Sasha's food-based nobility was certainly charming, at least. He worried though that she didn't get the terrible horror that the Scouts might be. Didn't they have some crazy high casualty rates?

"Not that I have a choice in the matter," Ymir spoke up, "but if I did, I sure as hell would join the MP." Ymir's statement elicited a gasp from Krista, who sat next to her. Ymir had apparently scored eleventh overall in class rankings, according to the score list hanging near the main entrance to the dining hall. For her it was a choice between the Garrison and the Scouts. She didn't seem all that concerned about where she was posted, except when it came up around Krista. This statement seemed to be an attempt to convince Krista, as it seemed most everything Ymir did for someone else was for Krista. Ymir was so clearly in love with Krista, it made Marco sad to think that they might be separated soon, and that Ymir was trying to make sure they actually were!

Marco looked at Krista herself, whose eyes were tearing up. She was the sweetest person, and sometimes Marco couldn't help but think of her as someone not meant for battle. Truth be told, he found it a little strange that she beat out Ymir in the rankings. In some ways, Krista was similar to Marco, in that she showed a great deal of empathy. Or at least, a tendency for self-sacrifice. He wondered briefly if she would just go where Ymir went.

For a moment Marco looked at Jean again, and wondered,  _If I joined the Scouts, would Jean consider going with me?_

Marco looked over at Reiner, who seemed to be in awe of Krista's sadness. Bertolt lightly touched him on the arm, and he seemed to exit his near-stupor. 

"Well, I haven't made up my mind yet," Reiner declared. He was definitely the strongest of them, without having some kind of monomania, at least. Marco chided himself on his unkind thoughts about Mikasa. Turning his mind back to Reiner, he remembered that occasionally Reiner would mention going home, which would indicate he wanted to spearhead their efforts to retake Wall Maria, as he was one of those refugees from five years ago. It was a weird contrast with Bertolt, who on the rare occasion he would speak about it (or anything, really), indicated he wanted to join the Military Police, too. Could they end up going their separate ways? Looking at Bertolt, he was unnerved for a moment, but then remembered that heavy sweating seemed to be some sort of physical ailment he suffered from. 

 "B-but..." Bertolt began. 

"It's true though!" Connie exclaimed. "If we don't bring the fight to them, how can we ever defeat them? And we are the best of the best, after all! I think I _will_ join the Scouts!" Connie had stood up at this last, and puffed out his chest with pride. 

"Are you all fucking crazy?!" Jean shouted. This sudden outburst, so similar to the one from Thomas a few minutes ago, startled someone into squealing. Marco looked over to the source, and saw it was Daz, the boy with the strangely old-looking face. He was shaking. Marco looked at Jean again, who seemed to rein himself in, which was unusual. Speaking softly, he continued, "Look, guys, you really need to think about what you're doing here. You don't want to throw your lives away. I mean, c'mon. I want to... see as many of you alive as I can, with me, behind Wall Sina. Eren makes pretty words full of passion and shit, but he's crazy! Don't--"

Jean looked directly at Marco.

"Don't be a hero." 


	2. First Impressions

14 September 847

Marco stepped out of the dining hall onto the small terrace where he spied Connie Springer, that funny kid with the buzzcut, as he reacted to Jean Kirstein wiping his hand along the back of Connie's shirt. The kid with the strange two-tone hair had this incredibly creepy expression on his face as he mentioned that he was wiping his trust on Connie. What the hell did that mean?

"Um, Jean, right?" Marco said to him as Connie stormed off. The boy's beady eyes momentarily remained distant, but then he seemed to come back to himself. 

"Yeah," he said, looking at Marco. "You're... Ymir?"

"No, sorry. Marco Bodt. We stood next to each other at the ceremony earlier?"

"Right," he said, casually rubbing his forehead where Commandant Shadis had headbutted him this afternoon. "What can I do for you?"

"I was just wondering what that whole thing you just did was about? Wiping your hand on Connie's shirt?" Marco wasn't normally this direct, especially to a stranger, but something about this kid was pushing Marco to be more proactive than he would normally be.

"Hm? Oh, yeah. The impulse just overtook me. I'm an artist, and so sometimes I just have to express myself. Didn't mean anything by it."

Marco was not sure how to even respond to such a strange explanation. His mouth hung open for a moment.

"Sorry, did I upset you? Well, I'm upset myself. That kid with the eyes from earlier, Aaron or whatever, he just told that beautiful girl to cut her hair. I mean, what kind of world do we live in where such a thing could even happen?"

Marco's eyebrows furrowed. "So, you wiped your 'trust' on Connie because the idea of that girl cutting her hair... is unjust?"

"Man, you overthink stuff. Sure. Yes, I guess so. In that she would follow the directives of that weird crazy kid."

"I don't think he's crazy, just... driven. He was in Shiganshina, after all."

"Yeah, I heard the whole spiel."

"I'm just a little confused as to why you are being so antagonistic to people you've just met..." 

"Huh. So I guess I've just met the hero here?" Jean's facial expression switched to one of bemusement, a smirk now firmly on his face.

"It's... not like that," Marco mumbled. He wasn't the best at talking about himself, and was not in any mood to switch topics. "I just don't like...Like seeing people get hurt."

"Did I hurt somebody? I didn't realize that the bald kid was injured by my hand. I'll make sure to apologize when I see him again. Just like I did to Eren."

Marco nodded his assent, realizing he was not going to get anything more from Jean. He turned to walk toward the barracks.

"Oi, Marco!" Jean cried out before Marco could reach the bottom of the steps. "So you don't like seeing people get hurt. Feelings-wise, you mean?"

"Uh... no," Marco turned back to Jean, who joined him on the ground. They started walking side by side.

"You didn't say anything to the Commandant when he practically shattered your dreams." Marco was surprised. Jean must have noticed him earlier after all. 

"That's different," Marco said after a moment. "He's a military guy, and he's supposed to be mean to rookies."

"An interesting viewpoint," Jean laughed. "Have some familiarity with military protocol?"

Marco wasn't sure he wanted to keep talking to this guy. It was getting just a bit too personal. "Only what my dad told me about his time training."

"Ah, so it's a family business for you? Heh. Did your dad give life and limb in service to the king like you want to?"

Marco forced a smile on his face. _He remembers me well. Was he just pretending not to recognize me earlier? Ymir is that tall girl with the freckles. Was it just an attempt at an insult?_ "My dad was in the Garrison in Trost, the city closest to where I grew up in Jinae. He didn't make it to the Military Police."

"Was? Oh, shit, I'm sorry, did he die against the Titans or something?" Jean's face softened, a genuine look of regret passing over his features. 

Marco was as confused as hell by this guy. "No, my dad died back in '43. TB."

"Sorry, man," Jean said softly. "I'm from Trost. Maybe we can go tour your dad's old stomping grounds some time, or something? I dunno, I... Look, I'm really sorry. I seem to keep putting my foot in my mouth today. Let's be friends, eh?" 

Jean stopped walking, bringing Marco to a halt a second later. He put his hand out, just as he had minutes ago with Eren. Marco briefly considered slapping it, as Eren had, but instead took it, and gave it a firm shake. Jean gave him a real smile in return. It was a nice smile, and it seemed to soften Jean's harsh features some.

"As long as you don't rub your trust all over me," Marco joked as he resumed walking. Jean soon pulled up alongside him again.

"That really bothered you, huh? You sure are concerned about others. Don't think I didn't notice you trying to calm me and Eren down back there. Not that we needed you to. I expect me and Eren are going to get along fine. If he can take a joke."

Marco said nothing, but shook his head in amazement.

"So, can I count on you coming to _my_ rescue when I need it, Mr. Hero?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tend to assume AoT is set in a far dystopian, regressive future, so I don't assume that their knowledge is particularly medieval, so forgive the potential anachronisms, like awareness of the germ theory of medicine.


	3. Confrontation

31 August 850

Marco said nothing for a long time, looking into his drink, as Jean simply stared at him. Connie, Sasha, and Reiner had all begun responding to Jean's "hero" demand, but they trailed off when they noticed Jean's attention focused firmly on Marco.

"Heh," Ymir spoke up again, breaking the uncomfortable silence, but as was her usual mien, she made it worse. "Afraid your boyfriend's gonna go die with Eren?"

Jean abruptly turned toward Ymir, and shouted, "Shut the fuck up!" There was another yelp from Daz at this.

Ymir stared at him, her eyes showing little concern about his words. "Struck a nerve, did I?"

"You fucking bitch! What the fuck is wrong with you?" Jean spat out. He got to his feet. Ymir did the same. Marco began to panic. 

"Guys, please..." Luckily, Reiner was there, and he walked over behind Jean, and took a hold of the shorter boy's shoulders, and began gently forcing him back into his seat. At the same time, Krista tugged at Ymir's sleeves, trying to get her to sit back down too.

"Calm down, guys," Reiner said firmly. "Everybody should be able to make their decisions without having to justify 'em to anybody else."

Seated again, Jean muttered, "Yeah, sure."

Ymir did not end up sitting down. She stepped away from the table. "Whatever. I'm gonna get another drink, and maybe take it back to the barracks. Coming, babe?"

Krista blushed, but then nodded. "Bye, guys!"

Seconds after they stepped away, Connie said, "Wow. Would I love to know what they are going to do now!" Marco put his hand on his face in embarrassment.  _These are my friends?_

Reiner responded to this with a guttural sound, and Bertolt seemed to get even sweatier.

"Sasha, Annie... do they ever, you know, get it on in the barracks?" Connie said in a conspiratorial whisper.

"Yuck, you goddamn pervert!" Sasha cried out. Then she lowered her own voice, "I think so, but I'm not sure. There's occasionally some loud banging coming from Krista's section of the room..."

Marco, despite himself, was beginning to take interest, when he noticed Jean was, though ostensibly staring straight ahead, looking at him out of the corner of his eye. When Marco and Jean's eyes locked, Jean turned his head to once again stare at Marco directly. Marco looked away again, his discomfort growing. 

"Excuse me," he said as he stood up. "I have to go to the bathroom, and I might just retire for the evening. I'll see you guys back in the barracks. Night, ladies."

The other kids in the group responded, with Connie and Sasha making attempts to dissuade him, Bertolt making tiny sounds of alarm, Reiner nodding in understanding, and Annie being unreadable.

Jean stood up. "I'm beat too. And I've been drinking like crazy, so I gotta go piss, too. Let's go, Marco." Marco reluctantly began walking alongside Jean.

Outside, Jean slammed his hand on Marco's shoulder. There was no way he was going to get out of this fight...

"I really do gotta piss. Stay here." Jean walked into the boys' bathroom building. Marco dutifully waited.  _What was it you said about creepily following another boy?_ he thought.

After a few minutes, Jean came out, smelling of soap.

"Didn't you have to go?" Jean asked. Marco shook his head.

"Ah," Jean said, pretending he had a revelation. "So, you just wanted to get away from me."

"Jean..."

"Goddamnit, Marco! What happened to your dream of serving the king?"

"I still... I still want to," he said, "I just... Isn't it better to do what's best for the greater good? Couldn't that be the best way to serve the king, by protecting his realm and its people?"

"No, no it's not. You have to look out for yourself! Nobody gives a shit about any heroes. They just end up dead. You remember what Shadis said to you three years ago? The king isn't going to care about you either way."

"Jean, I haven't made any decisions yet, ok?"

"Promise me you're going to join the MP with me tomorrow. Promise!"

"I'm not going to do that, Jean."

"What the fuck, Marco?!"

"I have a lot to think about. I'm not going to be bullied into this decision!"

"FUCK!" Jean grabbed the front of Marco's tunic. "Why?!"

"Jean, calm down!"

"Aren't we friends? How can you leave me alone out there in the fucking interior?"

"This is ridiculous. I haven't made a decision! Besides, you'll have plenty of friends in the interior, even if I don't go. C'mon, Jean, why are you acting like this?"

Jean, who had a desperate look on his face, seemed to take stock of himself. He let go of Marco's shirt, and looked at his feet. "I'm not sure."

Marco watched his friend, who seemed suddenly drained. It was a relief, in a way. But Jean's passion so rarely came out as a result of something involving Marco. It was kind of a weird thrill, that was now fading.

"Sorry. Guess getting beaten out by Eren's just made me pissed. What a bunch of bullshit. Guess I just got caught up in my emotions."

"Right," Marco said, disappointed. It made a lot of sense. Marco was pretty sure he saw Jean staring at Eren at the graduation ceremony earlier.  _Why would Jean actually be that upset about me leaving him?_

"You know what, I think I'm not ready for bed yet. I'll see you later tonight, or tomorrow if you're asleep when I get back," Jean said, plastering a fake smile on his face.

"Sure," Marco replied. He turned away from Jean, but then the other boy clasped his hand.

"Please..." he muttered, squeezing Marco's hand firmly. His thumb rolled back and forth along the back of Marco's hand for a moment, before the contact was dropped. Jean turned around, and headed back to the hall.

Marco stared at Jean's retreating form. _  
_


	4. Bunk

14 September 847

As Jean and he entered the boys' barracks, Marco was a bit overwhelmed by the smell. When he had arrived here this morning, to put his stuff onto his bunk, he could smell the faint whiff of sweat that permeated the place. He had considered that, up until about two weeks ago, it had been the housing of the male members of the 101st Trainee Corps, and it was them that he was getting a sense of. At the time, there were only a few other kids in the room. Now it seemed that the arrival of a couple hundred teenage boys within the last half hour, after a long day of mostly standing around in the sun, had enhanced and compounded the smell.

"Hoo!" Jean declared. "Some of these kids need to learn some basic hygiene!"

"Heh," Marco replied. "Yeah, guess so. Well, I am pretty sure they have indoor showers here."

"Good," Jean said. "Where's your bunk?" Marco was not particularly happy with this question, as it seemed Jean wanted to keep talking to him. Marco held in his annoyance, and scanned the room. He couldn't precisely remember which one was his, but he thought it was near the far window. He had chosen a lower bunk, against the wall, wanting to make sure his bunkmate could feel comfortable. The set up of the beds was weird. There were two thin mattresses on each bunk with a small gap between. However, with all the bunks abutting the walls, it looked like it would be awkward for the person with the wall side to get past their bunkmate. It seemed like it would be worse for the guys on the top bunk, but Marco wasn't so selfless to take one of those. At least, not without being asked.

He walked over to where he thought he had left his stuff, followed by Jean. When he came to where he thought he might be stationed, he noticed Connie Springer sitting on the bed closer to the aisle. He looked beyond Connie to see his bags sitting on the bed roll.

When Connie saw Jean with Marco, his eyes narrowed. "Aw, no...," he mumbled.

"Hey, Connie," Marco said. "I guess we're bunkmates!"

"Oh, good!" Connie said, clearly relieved. He gestured to the mattress he was sitting on. "You mind me taking the front? I'm kind of a big sleeper, and so should probably have the room to spill out into the aisle. Otherwise, you might get a foot in your face."

"Fine with me!" Marco said cheerfully. He slipped his shoes off, and passed by Connie to get to his own spot. He sat cross-legged against the wall, and closed his eyes for a moment. He then turned to open one of his bags to begin making himself at home, when Jean fell into his lap.

"Wha?" Marco exclaimed, startled by the sudden impact. Jean disentangled himself awkwardly from Marco, one of his bare feet briefly smacking Marco in the face. 

Jean, now sitting next to Marco, glared at Connie, who smirked. "Not the most coordinated, are you?"

"You tripped me up, man," Jean growled, but then grinned, "but I guess we're even for earlier." He then looked at Marco. "Sorry for the face kick."

"'Sokay," Marco said, and after rubbing his face for a moment, moved to his bag again. He pulled out a pen and a few sheets of paper, and then some of his toiletries.

"You going to write a letter in the bathroom?" Connie asked, moving close to the narrow gap between their bedding.

"No, not yet," Marco said. "I am going to write a letter, but probably not til later. I mean, it's dark out, but it's still fairly early. Not enough time to consider my first day over. I took them out so I remember to do so before I go to sleep."

"So, you're going to write a letter after just one day?" Jean asked.

"Yeah. I promised my mom."

"Do you plan on doing it every day? That could get expensive for your commissary funds."

"Guess I'll deal with that bridge when I come to it. My mom's very worried about me."

Jean crossed his arms. "Yeah, I know what that's like..."

"Really? You've got a face only a mother can love, I guess," Connie snickered. Marco didn't get this joke at all. As far as he could tell, Jean was pretty handsome, if a little strange looking.

Jean's eyes narrowed in annoyance, but then he looked at Marco again. "So, my mom, she is just the worst. Always getting in my face about everything. Lousy old hag."

"Wow," Connie said. "That's pretty awful. What did your mom ever do to make you so pissed at her to call her a hag...?"

Jean said nothing, still looking at Marco. Marco returned the glance, and decided not to hide his disgust. Jean was momentarily taken aback, but then said something under his breath he couldn't make out.

"Foot in mouth again?" Jean sighed. "Ugh, maybe I should just go to my bunk."

 _Please do_ , Marco thought. Seeming to get the hint, Jean got onto all fours and climbed out of the bunk. After he was standing outside, he patted Connie on the shoulder. "Walk with me."

"Uh, sure..." Connie responded, shrugging to Marco before walking off with Jean.

 _What is with that guy?_ Marco thought. Sighing in relief, he looked at the few items he had taken out, and wondered what the shower schedule was. He always took a bath in the evening at home, as he didn't have time while getting Giorgio and Luisa ready for school in the morning. He looked around for a moment, and surreptitiously sniffed his own armpit. It wasn't that great. Maybe he could squeeze in a shower before lights out?

"Hey, Marco!" a voice said, a face suddenly in his field of vision. It was the traumatized kid from earlier, Eren Yeager. _C'mon, Marco, you shouldn't assume._ Standing next to him was his friend, Armin (whose last name he couldn't remember). Marco smiled.

"Hey, Eren! Good to see you guys!"

"Settled in, I see," Armin said cheerfully. His expression changed to worry when Eren climbed into the bunk.  _Boy, a lot of these guys just seem to think they can go into your personal space without so much as a by your leave._

"Mind if we visit?" Eren asked, relieving the tension on Armin's face.

"Not at all!" Marco said happily. Eren and Armin sat on Connie's bed. Marco looked at Eren's green eyes, and for the second time that day, marveled at their depth. He got a great sense of intensity from those eyes, and maybe a little madness. He thought he could get lost in those eyes. Among the other students, he had noticed a few with dead stares, like Eren's friend Mikasa, and there was Jean's kind of creepy ones ( _Wow, Marco, judgmental tonight!_ ), but Eren's eyes had been so amazing he couldn't help wanting to look into them, and plumb their depths.

"Uh, you okay, Marco?" Eren asked. Marco blushed when he realized he had been staring.

"Yeah, sorry, just thinking about today's events."

"Commandant Shadis is a mean bastard," Eren said. "Though, can't say some of his victims didn't deserve the punishment. Like that Jean character..."

Marco held his breath for a moment, not wanting to think even more about the rude guy. He didn't want to be impolite, so he tried to organically change the subject. "I'm going to write a letter to my mom. I wonder how I'm going to phrase his words of encouragement." He chuckled a little, remembering how scared he had been. He guessed he was lucky not to have been physically abused like Jean or Connie.  _Ugh, Jean in my thoughts again!_

Eren seemed suddenly terribly upset. _Oh no, what did I say?!_ Eren's eyes were tearing up, and it looked like he would start weeping, the sudden despair in his expression was so acute. Instead, he bolted from the bunk, running across the aisle and scrambling up a ladder to another bed.

"What...? Oh, god, Armin, I'm sorry!" Marco cried. Armin turned slightly away from Marco, hiding his eyes in shadow cast by his thick bangs.

"Sorry to cut our hangout so short, Marco. Eren's going to have to get used to people talking about their moms sooner or later. I guess the idea of writing her hadn't come into his mind yet."

"What--What do you mean?"

"Eren's mother got eaten by a Titan the day of the attack on Wall Maria. He and his sister Mikasa saw it happen. It's why Eren is so focused."

Marco said nothing as Armin left the bunk. Marco looked to where Eren now lay, and could make out that Eren was shaking. From rage? Grief? He couldn't help but feel for him, and marveled at his ability to use the pain to move him forward. In a way, it was not so dissimilar from what Marco had gone through, though disease was obviously less sudden and traumatic than being eaten alive by a giant humanoid monster. But still, Marco was proud that he helped get his mother and siblings through that rough time. He felt stronger for it. But it still hurt to think of his dad. A lot.

Marco watched Armin climb up to Eren's bunk to comfort him, and briefly thought how it might feel to touch Eren's back like Armin was now doing. Then he was distracted by Connie's reappearance. He was gathering up his bags.

"Connie?" Marco asked. "You're switching bunks?"

"Yeah, sorry. Nothing personal! Jean just gave me an offer of some treats his mom gave him, and it was an offer I couldn't refuse." 

 _What?! Why is this guy bribing someone to not be my bunkmate?_ Marco's mouth was agape with utter confusion. Connie quickly departed with a "See ya!"

As soon as Connie stepped away, Jean reappeared, and dropped a couple of his own bags onto the now vacated spot. Marco's eyes widened.

"Hey, roomie!"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The set up of the bunks was weird in both the anime and the manga. I went with the anime, and just kind of tried to figure it out.
> 
> Also, I am not particularly endorsing Eren/Marco. Just thinking Jean may not have been his first crush.


	5. Assessment

31 August 850

Marco stepped back into the barracks and made a beeline to his temporary bunk. He dropped himself down onto the bed, and held his face in his palms. He sat motionless for a few minutes, trying to get himself to calm down. 

 _What am I doing?_ Marco thought.  _Am I crazy? Seriously considering joining the Scouts? And Jean, acting so nuts about it? Could he...? No. That way lies madness. Jean isn't...He's a desperately lonely guy. I know that. As much as everyone likes him, it's despite himself. He just doesn't see that I am not the only one who "took pity" on him. He..._

Marco fell backwards onto the bed, his head falling over the farther edge, which was instantly disorienting. The beds here were more "standard" than those at the training facility. There was no other bed abutting this one. As Marco slid his body over, dumping bags onto the floor, he thought how he might never see those barracks again. 

_Not unless I can become an instructor. But I think you have to have at least five years on the "field" before they let you do that._

Maybe it would be something he can aspire to. It would be a way to serve the king and not be in as much danger as the Scouts.

_Serving the king. Isn't it about time you dropped that? You know it's all about making your dead dad proud. Making your mom feel like her sacrifices have been worth it._

Marco shook his head. What was the point in giving himself recriminations? All he'd ever done was try to do what's best for those he cared for. Right?

* * *

26 August 850

Marco sat in a chair outside Keith Shadis's office, his stomach turning. Three other trainees sat to his left, namely Mikasa, Armin, and Daz. Inside, Shadis was interviewing Bertolt as part of the final exam. Kind of the flip of their introductions almost three years ago. He wasn't sure how this process fit into their grading, but he supposed it was a better way to assess a person's nature than just seeing how they act in a physical manner.

Marco briefly looked at each of his comrades. Mikasa had her usual stoic ( _dead_ ) expression. No matter how this interview went, she was going wherever she wanted. Which was wherever Eren wanted to go. She'd said as much in their occasional talks. Marco wasn't sure if she was madly in love with Eren, or just devoted to him in an insane spiritual sense. He liked to think it was more the former, but either way it was a little scary. Long over his own crush on Eren, Marco hoped things would work out for her, but he had his doubts. Eren was someone who loved people, almost as intensely as he hated Titans, it was true, but he had not even once seen Eren act in a way that would imply he had interest in romance or sex. Even when Armin had found that book about human reproduction, he didn't seem particularly interested.

Looking at Armin, he smiled, and Armin, who was apparently lost in thought, clearly stressed, noticed, and smiled back. Marco counted Armin among his best friends. They were able to talk deeply about all manner of subjects. Armin was a genius (though he didn't seem aware of it), and while having no temperament for leadership, was someone Marco knew he could rely upon in a pinch. Due to that one incident, Armin was one of the few people Marco could talk to about being attracted to other men. Marco felt a flush of guilt, recalling how embarrassing that whole thing had been. 

Looking at Daz, he tried to transfer the smile to the other boy. Daz had his fingers on the sides of his head, and was bent over almost ninety degrees, so did not seem to notice Marco at all. His expression was wild with terror, his leathery face stretched in a rictus. Marco felt stressed out, but Daz seemed to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He couldn't understand how Daz Lerner had managed to make his way through these three years, as weak as he was. Everything seemed to overwhelm him. Marco thought a very unkind thought:  _If I get into a leadership position over Daz, I'd have to make sure he was away from having to be responsible for anyone else. He's just too quick to panic._

Marco's thoughts were interrupted by the office door opening, eliciting a noise from Daz. Turning his head, he saw Bertolt step through the door. Having expected to see Bert soaked with sweat, he was amazed to see the tall boy preternaturally calm. It was too bizarre.  _Should I take this as a sign that Mr. Shadis is acting differently than he normally does?_

Bertolt nodded to the others, and waited, not saying anything. He didn't leave, so presumably he wanted to talk to them about it. Marco looked forward to it, as he was always interested in the taciturn Bertolt. Before he could try to get Bert to open up, before the door had swung closed to Shadis's office, he heard "MARCO BODT!" shouted from inside. Marco jumped to his feet. He looked at the others, with Armin giving him a warm "Good luck!", Bertolt having a drop of sweat pop out on his forehead, and Mikasa giving him a light pat on the arm. Daz seemed to amp up his own anxiety.

Marco walked into the office, closing the door on his way in. He saw Shadis seated, staring down at some papers on his desk, a desk fan gently blowing in his face. The room was incredibly stuffy, despite the large open window behind Shadis. Marco walked up to just behind the guest chair, and pumped his fists in salute.

Shadis gave one of his rare "At ease"s, and Marco relaxed a bit, folding his hands behind his back.

"Marco Stefan Bodt," Shadis began. "Born the sixteenth of June, 834, in Jinae. Mother Lidia Alessandri Bodt. Father Heinrich Bodt, deceased Year 843. Younger siblings Luisa and Giorgio Bodt. Enlisted in the Trainee Corps at the age of thirteen."

Marco said nothing, not sure how he was supposed to respond to this basic information about him.

"This was my brief assessment of you after three months training: 'Marco Bodt. A natural squad leader, emphasizing the welfare of his comrades over himself. His potential for self-sacrifice makes him ultimately unfit for strategic planning.' Do you think this has changed?"

Marco swallowed. "I suppose not, sir. I have always looked to help others before myself, or at least I've tried."

Shadis looked up at Marco for the first time. "And why is that, Cadet? What makes you think you have less value than your comrades?"

"I...I wouldn't say I value myself less. I just think I know my own limits. I can control what I do, and little else. If I can help others, those who are better, to achieve our mutual goal, then I have done what I can."

"Those who are better..."

Marco felt beads of sweat forming on his brow. "Yes, sir."

"Is Mikasa Ackerman better?"

"Yes, sir."

"Reiner Braun? Bertolt Hoover? Annie Leonhart?"

"Yes, sir."

"Eren Yeager? Jean Kirstein?"

"Yes, sir."

"Connie Springer? Sasha Braus? Armin Arlert?"

"Yes, sir."

"Daz Lerner?"

"Yes, s-- I..." Marco stopped. Was Daz better? He had to be better at  _something_... "No, sir," he finally conceded with a sigh.

"So then. In a situation where you could save Lerner, but certainly die yourself, would you save him? Knowing that you are a superior asset?"

Marco paused. "If ordered to... I would leave him. But, in all honesty, I would save him, sir, if it were up to me."

"So, despite knowing you are better than someone, you would still sacrifice yourself. Despite the effect this has on your comrades."

"What do you mean, sir?"

"Are you aware of how fond your classmates are of you? I am. Besides so many volunteering to serve under you on missions, you are known as a peacemaker and confidante. People like you, they can keep morale from collapsing during a crisis, or after heavy losses. Do you see how after action, the lack of someone your comrades can rely on can cause them to despair, and ultimately give up at crucial moments? Do you see how a Lerner would be of less value to the group?"

"Yes, sir. I understand that. I just don't know if I can--"

"Is it because you are a homosexual?"

Marco's mouth dropped open in shock. "S-Sir?"

"Before you wet yourself, boy, you don't need to fear that I will force you out of the military, despite regulations. We live in a time where the need for good soldiers, especially in the Recon Corps, is too high to concern ourselves with irrelevant things such as who you bed." Despite his words, Marco was terrified. Shadis was a scary man in almost all situations, and this one was now especially charged. Marco couldn't help but sense a barely contained contempt.

"I'm n-not ho--"

"Do not try and deny it. I have taught cadets for five years. Before that I was the head of the Recon Corps. I am a keen observer of human behavior. Young men and women your age are prone to wear their lusts on their sleeves. You're not even very good at hiding it. Jean Kirstein--"

Marco gasped. Shadis seemed taken aback for a moment by Marco's outburst. He continued, "-- is an excellent soldier, with some potential for strategic and tactical leadership, but you constantly give him flowery praise, despite his lack of social skills or the ability to command trust. Why? Why this one of all the others?"

"He's my... my best friend," Marco stammered, becoming dizzy.

"My point is that, paired with the looks you constantly give him, the subtle body language, and certain incidents I am aware of, it's clear you elevate Kirstein to a level I rarely see outside of those of lovers. Again, it doesn't matter, but self-deception is a very bad thing to embrace as a soldier. It can make you cocky, or make you hold back, and that can get you or others killed. So, accept that you are a homosexual. Perhaps with that awareness, you can find yourself a good woman to fix you, if that's your desire. It matters to me not one bit. But I suspect that you use it as a means of lessening your own self-value, and thus justifying your self-sacrificial nature. You need to work on that, cadet. Because if you die to save Lerner, who will be there to save everyone else?

"Dismissed." Marco saluted again, and did an about face, exiting Shadis's office. He saw Bert had left, and the others now joined by Jean. Mikasa, Armin, and Jean looked immediately alarmed, while Daz was still looking away.

"MIKASA ACKERMAN!" Shadis bellowed, and Mikasa stood up. She put her hand briefly on Marco's shoulder before stepping through the door.

"Marco?!" Jean said, walking over to his friend. He put both his hands on Marco's shoulders. "What happened?"

The thrill of Jean's hands contacting his body, even through his uniform jacket, and so much more important to him than Mikasa's touch a moment ago, reinforced what Shadis had just spoken to him of. Marco shook Jean's hands away, and said nothing as he walked down the hall. He heard Jean and Armin trying to plead with him to come back.

* * *

31 August 850

Marco lay on the bed, trying to keep himself from crying, as his emotions swirled. He didn't want to die, but he couldn't let anyone else die. He wanted to make his dad proud and achieve what his old man could never do in his short life. He wanted to make everyone else happy, but couldn't shake the need for his own happiness. He was terrified of saying goodbye to his friends, because he loved them so. And he loved Jean Kirstein most of all. Jean, whose presence was a dagger in his heart, twisting with his ignorance of Marco's feelings. How could he go to the Military Police and work with Jean day-in and day-out for the next thirty years? How could he... watch Jean marry and have children, while Marco lives a solitary life? 

_No. I can't do that. It has to give. I can take the decision out of my hands. I can tell Jean how I feel, and let him determine if he wants to work side-by-side with a poof._

Marco bolted upright, momentarily dizzy.  _Will this really solve anything? Are Jean's choices going to be a binding contract? What are you doing, Bodt?_

Marco shook his head. He didn't know what he was doing. But he was tired of just letting things go. He stood up, and walked out of the barracks.


	6. Exposed

14 September 847

Marco grabbed his towel, toiletries, and sleep clothes, eager to leave the presence of Jean. This kid's behavior was going to make Marco drop out on his first day if he didn't get some space. 

"Where you going?" Jean asked as Marco pushed past him to get out of the bunk. 

 _Isn't it obvious?_ Marco wanted to shout. But that wasn't his nature, so he said, "I'm going to look for those showers. I feel a little ripe. Summer's not over yet, and I got a lot of sweat out today."

"Ah, let me join you," Jean said, and Marco suppressed a scream. Jean got out of the bunk, and slipped his shoes on. He grabbed a bag of his own, and gestured for Marco to lead the way. They started moving for the exit, when Jean took a hold of Marco's arm and said, "Hold on. Gotta say hi to somebody."

Marco considered for a moment just heading to the showers by himself, but then decided against it. Why was he letting Jean's antics get to him? It wasn't going to help, especially since they would be together for the next three years at least. Over time things would settle, and so Jean would naturally gravitate away from him. He hoped.

"Thomas!" Jean exclaimed to another boy. This one was about Marco's height, with blond hair and amazing sideburns. Marco wondered if the other boy might already be shaving. 

"Oh, hey, Jean!" Thomas said cheerfully. "I'm surprised you came over. I tried to get your attention earlier, but you seemed too wrapped up in fighting somebody."

"What else is new?" Jean laughed. "I want you to meet Marco Bodt. He's my bunkmate."

"You guys are friends?" Marco asked, genuinely surprised.

"Sure!" Thomas said. "Though it's hard to be friends with our Problem Child here." Jean looked momentarily horrified, but then smiled, and patted Thomas on the back.

"Thomas is from Trost, like me. His mom and mine are drinking buddies--"

"What?" Thomas made a confused face. 

"Okay, so they hang out and sew or something. They'd have more fun if they did drink, though."

"You drink?" Marco asked. Jean laughed again, and Thomas scratched his cheek in embarrassment.

"Not really, no, but we did break into Thomas's dad's stash once. Now, _Mr._ Wagner is certainly a drunk."

"Nice, Jean. I'm out of parents to insult. Maybe Marco's got some for you to bash?"

"That's always been your problem, Tommy. No sense of humor."

"If you'd ever say something funny, I'd laugh, Jeanboy."

Jean chuckled, and patted Thomas on the back again. "Me and Marco are going to look for the showers. Wanna join us?"

"Sounds like a good idea! I'll go ask some of my new pals if they want to come."

A few minutes later, a mass exodus of the boys set out from their barracks into the night. Some of them had already found the shower facilities, so they were able to get there with little difficulty. The girls' counterpart building was nearby, and they could see some girls wandering in and out. 

Near the entrance to the shower facilities, a veteran cadet named Dieter Albrecht, a member of the 102nd, stopped the boys from going in immediately. He let them know that the hot water was limited, and so showers would only be up to five minutes per cadet. There were a few groans, and one kid said they should steal water from the girls, but most were accepting. Dieter opened the doors to the changing rooms.

Marco had followed Jean, who was one of the first to enter. Marco was a little overwhelmed by the sheer number of other boys that were with him in the packed room, and felt a little scared, as some of them were in their underwear or naked almost immediately. Backing away a bit as the blood rushed to his face, he stumbled into the showers themselves, and saw that it was just a single large room, with the walls lined with shower heads. 

"Marco, you okay?" Jean asked from immediately behind him. Marco whirled around, and saw Jean was already in his underpants.  _No, no, no, I didn't think... oh, god, I'm sorry, Dad!_

"Marco!" Jean shouted, and grabbed his shoulders. Looking into Jean's face, Marco, seeing the concern and confusion, willed himself to calm down. 

"I'm... okay," he said. "Just... I need a moment." He headed back to the changing room, just as other cadets started walking in and moving to the shower stations. Marco passed the others, some of them giving him strange looks, and looked for a bench to sit on. He ignored more looks as he shoved his way into a seat near a corner. He looked into his own lap, and forced himself to be calm and normal and not think about what was going on around him.

 Jean dropped down beside him. "You want to tell me what's going on?"

Marco tried not to look at Jean directly. However, Jean's leg was in Marco's field of vision, and even that was too much.

"I... uh... I'm shy," Marco lied.

"You're shy? About what?"

"About being naked in front of other people."

"Really?" Jean's voice sounded incredulous. "But we're all guys here. We all got the same parts."

"I know. I just, um...," Marco stammered. "I just am."

"Okay, okay, Marco, let's wait til everybody else is done, then we can shower alone."

Marco looked up at Jean. The other boy looked like he was genuinely confused, so Marco figured he didn't suspect the real reason he didn't want to go in there.

"You don't have to wait for me," Marco said. "I'd be embarrassed in front of you, too, anyway."

"Marco, that ain't gonna fly here. I'm thinking we're not going to get a lot of leeway for our shower times, so you're going to have to get over this hang-up. I know we only just met tonight, but I can help you get past it. Treat me as a test subject! Okay?"

Marco sighed. "Okay." Jean was right. It was pretty stupid of him to think he would get through three years of training without having to deal with this. Or rather, fail to think of it at all. He was too caught up in the newness of it all, the fundamental changes to his environment, to even consider these things. "Thanks," he said.

"Sure," Jean said, then looked away from Marco, closed his eyes, and leaned against the wall with his hands behind his head. Marco took a moment to look at Jean's body, admiring his lean form. _Too lean, right? So skinny as to be gross. Because he's a guy. Breasts, I like breasts..._

Marco's eyes moved down to the band of Jean's underwear, and the slight bulge in the front. His face hot, he quickly looked down to Jean's legs, and his feet, crossed at the ankles. Too late. Marco felt his penis expanding in his pants. He looked away from Jean again, and closed his own eyes.

_Why me? Why couldn't I just be a regular boy? I'm sorry, Dad... I wish I could be normal..._

After some time, the other boys finished their business. Nearly the whole time, Marco kept his eyes closed or at least averted from the others. When it seemed everyone had come and gone, and it was just Jean and him, Marco sighed heavily with relief. 

"All right, we're alone," Jean said. "Let's see the goods."

"You are so abrasive," Marco returned. He pulled his shirt over his head.

"Huh," Jean said. "You have a lot of freckles."

Marco smiled. Everyone he'd ever taken his shirt off in front of seemed to feel the need to comment on the freckles. "My mom says they give me character."

"They make you exotic," Jean said, "Nothing like my pasty self." He nodded to Marco's lower body as if to nudge him, at the same time pushing down his own underwear. After seeing a flash of Jean's pubic hair (the same color as his undercut!) Marco quickly looked away, and removed the rest of his clothes. His erection long since having faded, his fear was probably going to prevent a return. Grabbing his soap while still trying to avoid looking at Jean, he walked straight ahead into the shower room, went below one of the heads, and turned it on.

Marco began scrubbing, not responding much to Jean's talking to him. He sensed Jean turn away, and despite everything, he looked at Jean's backside. _What are you doing?!_ his mind screamed at him, but he couldn't help it. Seeing Jean's butt was making him swell again, but he couldn't look away.  _Shit!_

Luckily, at that moment, the hot water abruptly turned ice cold. He and Jean both cried out, jumping from the direct streams, Jean cursing up a storm.

Marco laughed. The cold water had taken any heat from his crotch away. The two of them rinsed off as well as they could, and then turned off the water.

They went back into the changing room, and toweled off, Marco avoiding Jean's body in his vision. That had been too close. 

"Thanks, Jean," Marco said finally, feeling genuinely grateful for the other boy's kindness. "You've helped me through a tough problem."

"Don't get used to it, man," Jean said as he pulled his shorts up to his waist. "Don't want anybody thinking we're fags!" He laughed.

Marco closed his eyes, and fought back tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess it's obvious my interpretation of Marco is a self-hating gay kid, at least at the beginning of training. Hope nobody finds that offensive.


	7. Rendezvous

31 August 850

Marco forced himself to slow down as he retraced his route back to the dining hall. It wasn't like he was going to be able to dramatically declare his feelings to the group at large, because then, the grace of Keith Shadis notwithstanding, he probably would be forced out of the military. Yes, he was going to be dramatic, but to Jean alone.

The problem with moving without that fire pushing him was it gave him too much time to think. Too much time to reconsider his actions, and maybe make him just give up. It had happened plenty of times before. He was just not an impulsive guy.

As he walked, he passed several other cadets, the celebrations having spread beyond the hall by this point. Most of them seemed to be drunk. They were mostly in pairs or small groups. He spied Franz and Hannah necking behind a pillar. He forced down a burst of rage at the sight. _Leave them alone, Marco. It's not their fault society accepts them and not others._

"Right," he mumbled. He tried to ignore the spectacle around him. Never very comfortable with drinking, these rare celebratory events usually made Marco retreat to his bunk after a while. 

"Psst! Hey, Marco!" Marco stopped and looked around for the origin of the voice. He saw, sticking his head out from a small alley between the buildings, Thomas. The other boy's eyes were glassy. "Come over here!" Marco weighed whether this would be worth bothering with, but he reluctantly turned toward Thomas, and followed him into the alley. The alley only went a short way before turning into a small alcove, where a door led inside. The door was closed, but it was clear it was this place Thomas had lured him.

Sitting on the ground before the door were Samuel and Mina. Mina's shirt was unbuttoned so as to reveal her cleavage, and Samuel was kissing her neck. Mina looked up at Marco, and her face brightened. She pushed Samuel off of her, jumping to her feet. She embraced Marco with a great deal of force.

"Ah, Mina!" Marco said with the impact. _What is going on here?_

Mina did not let go of Marco for some time. Marco at first was rigid, but then hugged her back, happy to feel so close to another person. He saw Samuel, also glassy-eyed, and confused, stand up. The boy's shirt was completely unbuttoned, revealing a hairy navel similar to Marco's own. Marco looked away from him, lest his thoughts turn dirty, and the hug with Mina become more awkward.

"Jeez, Mina, enough," Thomas said jovially. He walked around to stand next to Samuel, and Marco noticed he also had his shirt unbuttoned. Marco tried to put this strange scene together in his mind, but it didn't make any sense. Were Thomas and Samuel both making out with Mina? At the same time?!

Just then Thomas put his arm around Samuel's shoulder, and started nuzzling the taller boy's neck, his lips planting small kisses along the way. Startled, Marco pulled himself away from Mina. "W-What?"

"Aw, come on, Marco," Mina said, her words slightly slurred. "I asked Thomas to find you so you could join us in celebrating! Don't tell me you're going to act all virginal."

"You, you're... what?" Marco reeled. Thomas had stopped kissing Samuel's neck, and the two of them just stared stupidly at him. How long had he been in the barracks that they could get so drunk that they were so out of it as to begin having homosexual (bisexual?) relations.

"Marco," Thomas began. "Mina invited you here. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth. Just enjoy yourself!"

"B-But--"

"For the love of Maria, why do you have to make this more weird than it already is?" Samuel asked, looking mildly annoyed. "Enjoy the fag shit, or enjoy Mina. Just go with it." He grabbed Thomas, and pulled him in, their mouths opening to begin kissing.

Marco was dumbstruck. He had never seen two guys kiss before. It was incredibly hot, and his pants became uncomfortably tight. Fighting his desire to keep watching, he looked down at Mina, so short next to him, and could see she was extremely pleased while looking at them. 

"Mina, please, what's going on?" he pleaded. She sighed and looked at him. She took him by the arm, and turned him around back to the alley. Marco stole another glance at Samuel and Thomas, who were going at it voraciously.  _This is crazy..._

"So, you need an explanation for human sexuality?" Mina said once they had turned the corner. "Or are you saying, 'cute little Mina would never!' I may be short, but that doesn't make me a child. And I may not be as overt in my tastes, like Hannah or Mikasa, or Ymir, but I do have them. I tend to prefer more mature guys, so that's why I stick around Samuel and Thomas, and I've always liked you, Marco. You're so mature and responsible, and masculine. If not for the oh so obvious fixation you have on Jean, I'd've probably asked you out myself."

Marco's head reeled again, the mention of Jean making him feel like he was the most obvious person in the world. This was insane. "You... are attracted to me?"

"Loads of us girls are. It's not like we have a lot of options."

"Boys outnumber the girls three-to-one."

 "I wasn't talking about boys. I was talking about men." The face she gave him was so smoky, Marco couldn't help but be aroused a little. He backed up a step. 

"But...," he said, looking toward the alcove, "are Samuel and Thomas... homosexual?"

"I'm not sure," Mina said, closing the distance between them a bit. "Samuel asked me out once, one, maybe two years ago? I turned him down then. Thomas never really read anything to me one way or the other. We got to talking, after Eren's speech today. We were all going to join the Garrison tomorrow til then. Now... Well, we started drinking pretty heavily. I guess I got a little turned on. So we looked for a place. I'm not sure when they started touching each other, but I guess they just got caught up in the moment. Which is pretty fucking sexy. I can see why so many of the boys are turned on by Ymir and Krista, now. The flip is pretty amazing." As she finished talking, Marco realized she was now right on him, casually touching his waist.

"You can... just get caught up in that?"

"Wanna see? I know you love Jean--" Marco winced at this. "--but it might never happen. And this might be a safe way to explore your passions. You can touch Samuel or Thomas while touching me, too. That makes it totally hetero. Good deal?"

"You'd be okay with me using you like this?"

"My dear Marco,  _I_ would be using  _you_. Come on, what do you say?" She took a hold of Marco's left hand, and brought it to her right breast. Marco felt the weight of it, and he shuddered from the thrill.  _Could this make me attracted to girls? Can I dare turn this down?_

"Okay," he said finally, and started caressing Mina's breast. She grinned, and moved him back towards the alcove. She sat down next to Samuel and Thomas, who were still making out. Mina pulled Marco to the ground, put his face in her hands, and kissed him. His lips tingled with the contact.

Marco kissed her for a while, startled a bit when her tongue pried his mouth open. He wasn't sure how long this went on, with her caressing his chest, and him trying to get a sense of how he was supposed to touch her. It was pleasant enough, but there was something... empty about it. He felt a bit of shame, even with her declaration that she was using him. It seemed so dishonest. 

He felt something prying its way between Mina and him, and opened his eyes to see Thomas's face. Mina pulled away, and Thomas came around to kneel directly in front of him. Knowing this would be his first romantic contact with another boy, he tried to steel himself, but there was too little time, as Thomas forced his lips onto Marco's.

Thomas's kiss was a lot rougher than Mina's, kind of like he was trying to dominate him. He felt Thomas's stubble scratch against his face.  _Man, he's hairy_. As Thomas moved to straddle him, Marco put his hand on Thomas's chest, and ran his fingers through the small patch of blond chest hair. Thomas had been an early bloomer, with those sideburns already there on the day they met. Thomas put a hand up Marco's tunic and started feeling around. He gasped as Thomas's hand fell down to the waist of his pants, and started pulling on them. 

Thomas was going at him a kilometer a minute, and Marco felt overwhelmed. This was going too fast. Thomas's hand was suddenly down Marco's pants, grabbing at what he could find, and Marco jumped away from the hot contact. He rolled to his side, and scrambled back to a sitting position, then to his feet. Thomas, knocked onto his butt, looked up at him, confused.

"Marco...?" Thomas asked.

Marco looked over at Mina and Samuel, who looked back at him, parting from each other.

"I can't. I'm not ready," he breathed.

"Yeah, okay," Mina said finally, looking resolved. She pushed herself away from Samuel. She grabbed at Marco's sleeve, and pulled him down so they sat down next to each other against the wall. He looked over to the other guys, who had both moved to seated positions against the far wall. He felt ashamed, for more reasons than he could articulate.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Hey, I don't mind," Samuel said, yawning. "I was getting a little too sober for this weird stuff anyway."

Thomas smirked in response, but was clearly not happy. Had he disappointed Thomas? _Was_ Thomas like him?

The four of them sat in silence for a time. Marco stressed over when it would be a good time to step away. Nothing happened until Samuel snored loudly, startling them all. _  
_

"I'm joining the Scouts tomorrow," Mina said abruptly. Marco started, and stared at her.

"Yeah, me, too," Thomas said.

"You are? Really? Was it just Eren's words?"

"I guess so," Thomas said, sounding defeated.

"I've thought about it for a long time," Mina said. "It was always going to be Garrison or Scouts for me. Not that twenty-second in the class is anything to sneeze at!"

"No, it's really good!" Marco responded. "And so's..."

"Thirty-ninth," Thomas mumbled.

"That's still in the top twenty percent. It's a great score."

"Yeah, sure. Are you... are you still going to the MP, Marco? You were having that fight with Jean."

Marco shook his head. And just like that, he made his decision, not leaving it in anyone else's hands. "Eren's right. If we ever hope to move beyond the walls, and bring humanity back to its former glory, there need to be people willing to risk their lives."

He stood up, and waited as Mina and Thomas followed suit. As they buttoned their shirts, Marco nudged Samuel into half-wakefulness, and helped him up to his feet. He let Samuel sling his arm around his shoulder. He wondered if Samuel had made his decision or not. Well, they'd find out in due course tomorrow.

As they left the alley, he thought about his sudden decision. Why did it suddenly become so easy? He looked at Thomas, who kept giving him furtive glances. Maybe... maybe he just realized... there can be life after Jean Kirstein. _  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to get all porno-y. The story just took me there. If I actually write anything resembling sex, I guess I'll add a warning. 
> 
> Also, about Mina. I feel she was undeveloped enough to give her this quality. I took her interest in maturity from the chibi shorts (which I am mining for incidents that might have happened in those three years, though in an obviously less silly manner).


	8. Lights Out

14-15 September 847

Marco tucked the letter into the envelope, and tied it shut. Looking around at his meager personal space, he decided to place it under his pillow, and hope he didn't rumple it overnight. It was a little frustrating to think he only had under the bed as potential storage space. He wondered if regulations would allow him to put nails in the wall? He would prefer to add  _something_ to make his bunk more his. Who designed this place to be so non-functional?

"Hey, Marco," Jean said from where he lay a meter or so away from him. "You know, if you ever need to borrow some paper 'cause you're short on funds or anything, I've got some. I brought some of my sketchbooks with me. Dunno if I'll ever get a chance to draw again, but thought I'd bring it along, in case of down time."

"Um... thanks," Marco replied. Jean had not turned to face him as he told him this, and Marco saw him in profile. His expression was of detached indifference. Marco could not figure out Jean from one moment to the next. He was a blunt, thoughtless jerk, until you pointed it out, and then he was very apologetic. Did he care about your emotions, or not? He was alternating generous and selfish, cruel and kind. The whole shower incident had shown him that Jean was somebody who could take pity on a total stranger, and then make them feel bad for having accepted the kindness he offered.

_Now that's not fair. He was just joking. He has no idea I'm a... a..._

Marco pushed the thought away. He had feelings, that was all, weird feelings. It might take a while, but he'd probably come to like girls "that way" in due course.

"You have sketchbooks?" he asked, genuinely curious. He remembered Jean's earlier reference to being an "artist". It had made no sense at the time, given the context of wiping trust on shirts.

"Oh, yeah," he said, and a wry smile appeared on his face. "Before the Fall, I was thinking about trying to become an illustrator or cartoonist. Maybe for Berg Newspapers, or for children's books or something. I don't know if I would be good enough for a fine art career, but either way, artists can get to live pretty sweet lives; maybe even in the interior."

"So, you gave that up?"

"Not completely. I mean, who knows what'll happen? But I figure this way is as good as any..."

"You mean becoming a soldier?"

"Yup. All I gotta do is get in the top ten. My dad always calls me a force of nature. If I set my mind to it, I can do anything."

"Well, you certainly don't lack confidence."

"Heh."

"Can I see your sketchbooks? Or are they just blank?"

Jean looked momentarily flustered, then collected himself, and finally turned to face Marco. "Sure, why not."

He turned away from Marco and sat up, reaching into one of his bags, the one that Marco had noticed was strangely rectangular. He pulled out a large pad of paper held together with wire loops. He turned back around to face Marco, passing the pad over the gap between them. He opened it.

Only a few of the pages had anything on them, but they were packed with small drawings of various people. An older couple (his parents?), some other kids, and a few pictures of a girl with really exotic features and a deep sadness in her eyes. There was something strangely familiar about her face, as if he had seen her before. Though that made no sense, unless she was one of the cadets here. He hadn't been in Trost in years.

Then it hit him. "When did you have time to draw that girl, Mikasa Yeager, so often?"

"Huh? Who? What?"

"These drawings. They're really life-like. You're pretty talented."

"Thanks, but what girl are you talking about?"

Marco gestured to one of the sketches. "Isn't this our classmate Mikasa?"

Jean's eyes narrowed as he looked at the drawing. "No. I've been drawing that face for a while. I think I saw it in a dream. Who are... Mikasa? Who's that?"

"Eren Yeager's sister. The girl you said needs justice for her hair."

"Her? Wait... oh, yeah, okay, I can see what you mean. Huh. What a weird coincidence."

Marco said nothing, surprised that Jean had not been drawing Mikasa. But he believed him just the same. 

"She's... Eren's sister?!" Jean cried a moment later. It was a little too loud, and Marco feared that Eren might have heard. When nothing happened after a few seconds, Marco breathed a sigh of relief.

"That's so fucking weird," Jean continued after a few more seconds. "They don't look anything alike. Shit, that could make my budding friendship with Eren a little more difficult."

Marco laughed. He would love to see Jean and Eren become friends. They were both extremely quick to overreact, so he thought a strong friendship was an unlikely outcome. Maybe begrudging respect...?

"What could?" Marco followed up on Jean's last statement.

"When she and I become a couple," he said, a smarmy expression on his face. He started giggling a little, and leaned in a little closer to Marco as if they were sharing a great secret. Marco just rolled his eyes.

At that moment, a hand slapped down on Jean's shoulder. It was Eren. His eyes were wide and his eyebrows knitted, and he had a scowl. "Not that I have a problem with you being with Mikasa, if that's what she wants...," he began.

"But?" Jean responded, apparently not intimidated.

"...but if your horse-face hurts her, you  _will_ answer to me."

Jean tried to play it off. "Noted," he said, smirking. Eren nodded, and walked back to his bunk.

Jean turned to Marco and shrugged. "Crazy-ass," he muttered.

* * *

After another twenty minutes or so, one of the upperclassmen in the 102nd or 103rd came by, and shouted, "Lights out!" Everyone still up and about scrambled to their bunks. Soon the only light visible was that of the moon coming from the large windows at either end of the room. Marco, with his left side to the wall, could make out very little, but he lay there for quite a while, not sleeping, and so his eyes adjusted to the light to some extent. Eventually some of the cadets began snoring. He heard lots of little sounds, and even thought he might be hearing the rapid rhythmic movements that would indicate somebody was masturbating.

Marco hadn't really thought much about how he would get privacy for the act himself. At home, he usually just waited until Giorgio and Luisa were put to bed, and he had some time alone in his bedroom. But now he was probably going to very rarely be alone. Maybe he could get some time in the toilet? It seemed like a kind of gross place to do it, but it was better than nothing. He wasn't sure he could do it quietly enough so no one else would notice here. But apparently some kid here was either not cognizant of the sound he was making, or didn't care. 

Whoever it was finished up (Marco heard a soft grunt at one point), and over time a couple other guys did it too. Marco, turned on by the thought of others masturbating, and, for some reason, couldn't ignore his erection, rubbed himself for a bit, slowly so as not to make a sound. He was getting pretty excited when he heard a loud sob somewhere very close by. He stopped, and listened, and yes, could hear another boy gently crying. It was frighteningly close. He pulled his hand out of his shorts, his erection disappearing quickly with the sounds of tears.

He looked over to his right, and saw Jean's silhouette. It was so close... could it be Jean? Arrogant, pushy, mean-spirited, and yet, with a hidden compassion, Jean?

"Jean," he whispered. The sobbing got instantly quieter, then stopped abruptly. Now Marco was certain it was Jean. The other boy said nothing.

"Jean, are you okay?" Marco whispered. "Are you crying? Are you hurt?" He didn't want to embarrass Jean, so he tried to keep his voice below the sounds of the others' breathing, but loud enough to be heard by his neighbor.

"'Mokay," Jean finally whispered back, his voice a barely audible croak.

Marco turned onto his right side to face Jean, who was less than a meter away. Marco knew what this was. He'd seen it enough with his younger siblings.

"Hey, man. It's okay to be scared. You're far from home, and in a new place with nobody you know. What you're feeling is normal."

"I..."

Marco reached over and took Jean's left hand with his own. "Yeah, don't worry about it. It's okay, it's fine to be scared."

"I just... I just miss... my mom..."

"Yeah, it's okay," Marco shushed him. Jean had been terrified all day long, Marco realized. His bravado had finally collapsed when he was all alone and not directing it at someone. Jean's hand shook in his, and Marco saw that Jean needed something more.

Marco made a decision, a decision that scared him, and over the next few years, he would come back to it with both fondness and regret, because he would see it as when the seeds of his feelings for Jean were first planted, when he thought he started allowing himself to see Jean as someone he could love, because maybe, just maybe, Jean could love him back.

Marco let go of Jean's hand, and reached around him, moved over the gap, and slid into Jean's bunk. He put his arms around Jean, moving Jean into a spooning position. While doing so, he was afraid Jean would hit him or something, but he didn't, and didn't even resist. After a few moments of this position, Jean turned around, flipping onto his own left side, now facing Marco, allowing Marco's hands to remain wrapped around him. He buried his face in Marco's shoulder, and silently wept.

Marco lied there, caressing the back of Jean's head, until the other boy's breathing became regular, indicating he was asleep. He slowly untangled himself, and slipped back into his own bunk. He returned to staring at the bottom of the bunk above, and reviewed the day in his mind. So much of it, especially the evening, had revolved around Jean Kirstein. 


	9. Complications

31 August-1 September 850

After saying goodnight to Mina with a kiss on the cheek and a warm thank you, Marco, along with Thomas, went into the men's barracks and dropped Samuel into his own bunk, and the only-half conscious boy fell right back to sleep. Thomas, who was good friends with Samuel, had the top bunk of that set, making it a bit awkward for Marco. He wanted to talk to him, but he wasn't up for going back out into the night, and it seemed too out of the way to bring him to Marco's bunk, at least not without being conspicuous.

"We'll talk later, okay?" Marco said to Thomas, and kind of wanted to hold his hand, but it was just too awkward in present company, as other guys started to come in to sleep. Thomas nodded, and gave him a small, pained smile.

Marco walked to his bunk, and sat down on the edge. He ran his fingers through his short hair, thinking about how stressed he was. He was surprised to find that he actually felt a bit less stressed than he had been just an hour earlier. Sure, he was a little blue-balled ( _Your own fault, dumbass!_ ), and terrified of what joining the Survey Corps would mean, but there was a real relief in knowing that he had made a decision.

He thought about how he was going to tell Jean. He was not going to react well. And it was likely going to mean they would part on bad terms. It would be really painful, and he kind of just wanted to avoid seeing Jean again. But he couldn't do that. He loved Jean. He felt a stab of pain just thinking about how little time they might have left. Just a few hours working with the Trost Garrison, then the induction ceremonies, and then... He fought back tears, not allowing himself to think about this too much.

He suddenly remembered Shadis's interview. Had Shadis known Marco might go to the Scout Regiment if not for Jean holding him back, his nigh-inextricable magnetism having kept him wanting to "serve the king" for so long? He remembered Shadis suggesting a girl could "fix" him. Marco hadn't thought that was possible for a long time. Now, having kissed another man, a man who was willing, and maybe even  _wanted_ to be with him, well... he thought maybe he could come to stop rejecting that part of himself. Armin had said he should do as much. Ymir had called him a moron for not expressing his tastes, but then, she didn't give a shit what anyone thought. He _couldn't_ be an open homosexual. That was for people far more brave than him. But he might be able to live with it, quietly.

Leaning back onto his bunk and lying down, he felt the old guilt from that part of him that didn't want to disappoint his dad. His dad, who had emphasized being a man, strong, and providing for his wife and children, who had feigned robustness when he was dying. Whose feigning exposed said wife and children to potential infection and death themselves. But he hadn't wanted Marco to be a copy of himself. He wanted Marco to be better. Achieve what he couldn't, because he didn't have the dedication or the skill. Marco wasn't sure, but he felt he must have heard somewhere that some parents try to live vicariously through their children. Had his dad done that?

 _What will I tell Mom, and the twins?_ he thought. He remembered his stationery, packed up in a bag. He usually wrote once a month (down far from his initial intention of once a day), but this whole consideration was very recent. They would be blindsided. One thing he was sure of, there was no way he was going to tell them about his affection for other guys.

He momentarily winced, remembering the pain from his father's hand during the incident with Gilbert. He remembered the taste of blood, as his father's fist had broken his nose, and split his lip. It was the only time his father had ever hit him. And it was because he had kissed the other boy on the cheek.

 _Did a lot more than that tonight, Dad,_ Marco thought bitterly. Then he smiled, and remembered Thomas's lips against his, their hands on each other, and Thomas's brief contact with his cock... He thought about getting one off to release some tension, but he found he had no energy, and soon found himself dozing.

* * *

He was startled awake by somebody jostling his shoulder. Opening his eyes, it took a second to focus, and he saw the face of Jean in front of him in the dim light from outside.

"Wake up, Marco, you asshole," Jean muttered angrily. He kept shaking Marco, getting increasingly aggressive.

"I'm up, I'm up!" Marco exclaimed. Jean stopped, and glared down at him, reeking of booze.

"Good, you fucking dick," Jean said again. He wasn't speaking very loudly, but Marco got the sense that most of the room was occupied, and they would be disturbing people if this continued. It was obvious Jean wanted this confrontation now, in the middle of the night, and wouldn't wait til he was sober to have it.

Marco sighed. "All right, Jean," he whispered. "Let's go outside."

He stood up and walked past him, not bothering to see if Jean followed. He walked out into the warm night air. He walked across the courtyard, and took up a position against one of the far pillars. He figured it was as far from the bulk of the other rookies as he could get without leaving HQ. He didn't want this conversation to be heard by the others.

He waited for a few minutes, not facing the barracks entrance, and wondered if Jean had passed out or something. He turned to go back, and nearly walked right into Jean. He made an undignified sound in his surprise. He shook his head, and then looked Jean dead in the eyes.

Jean glared at him. Marco held eye contact for a time, but then looked away, tired of this lame stalemate.

"What? What do you want, Jean? You going to say something? Or are you just going to stare at me all night? We do have duties in the morning, you know."

Jean said nothing. Marco, who tried to keep himself calm as much as possible, was just about at his limit. He was either going to have to go or he'd end up punching the bastard.

He waited a few more seconds, and then started moving past Jean. Jean grabbed his arm as he passed, and Marco jerked it away. He stopped, and stared into Jean's face again, but Jean still said nothing.

"Damn it, Jean! What do you want from me?!" Marco couldn't handle this. Why was he doing this to him? Did he think he could browbeat him into joining the MP?

Jean finally looked away. "I don't know."

Marco's anger boiled over. He wasn't one to lash out, but he had now passed his limit. "You know what, Jean, you selfish prick, for the three years I've known you, all I've ever done is try and be supportive. Because, of course, it's always been about you. Always. And even when I am deciding _my_ future, I have to do what's best for _you_? You know what, fuck you. I have my own life. I love you, Jean, but putting up with your bullshit is just not worth it anymore!"

Marco stopped. He realized what he just said.

"You... love... me?" Jean's eyes were wide, and he seemed to suddenly be stone cold sober.

"As... as a friend," he followed up pathetically.

"Shit," Jean said softly.

"I..."

"Shit shit shit shit shit," Jean repeated.

Marco fought panic. This was definitely not how he wanted it to go when he had been planning on coming clean this evening. This blurting it out, especially after he had already changed his mind... The worst thing was, he couldn't tell at all what Jean was thinking. Jean just looked down, his eyes looking completely shocked. Was it shock and fear? Confusion? Disgust?

"Jean," Marco began. Jean's eyes flared with anger.

"Shut up, you fucking liar. Shut. Up. You bastard. You lying fucking bastard."

"I didn't lie. I never said anything, but it's not a lie to not tell you all my f-"

"SHUT UP!!!" he screamed. He pushed his way into Marco's face. For a moment, Marco thought Jean would hit him.

Then, Jean's face changed again. The rage disappeared. A weirdly empty expression crept up in its place. It reminded him of Annie. That air of disinterest. Of boredom.

"You love me, huh? Thought maybe you and me could be a couple, get married, or something?"

"I... I thought..." For the third time that night, Marco fought back tears, "I don't know."

"So, our friendship was just a way to get into my pants?"

"No! What? How could you think that?!"

"I don't know what to think, Marco. All I know is that you're not the person I thought you were. A lot has come to light tonight. You're joining the Scouts tomorrow, I take it?"

Marco almost denied it, but thought better. "Yes."

"Well, then that makes this all a lot easier. After tomorrow, I don't have to see you ever again." He turned away.

"Jean, please..." Marco reached over and grabbed Jean's arm this time. Jean stopped, looked down at Marco's hand, and then looked at Marco's face with a look of utter contempt. Marco dropped the contact.

Jean resumed walking and disappeared into the barracks.

Marco backed up into a pillar, and slid down to the floor. His eyes started watering, and he could no longer hold back the flood. He put his face in his hands, and cried. 


	10. First Kiss

11 December 847

Jean had been silent through Marco's little character analysis. Now that it was over, Marco looked at the ground, chagrined for having spoken so long uninterrupted. After Commandant Shadis had done some evaluations of their Titan hunting techniques, some of the cadets had chatted a bit during a cool down before beginning the trek back to the training facility. Marco had come under scrutiny by Eren, who after hearing Marco's reasons for lack of aggression and emphasizing using people's strengths to achieve a goal, took it to mean that Marco was a natural leader. While Marco was touched by the others' confidence in him, and their declarations that they wanted to serve under him, after most of them had gone ahead, he told Jean he thought the other kid had much greater leadership potential than Marco did. He had gone on to give some reasons as they slowly followed the wagon back to camp.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Jean finally said. "How do you come about all that?"

"What do you mean?"

"You think I have good instincts, and get other people to go along with what I say 'cause I'm just one of them? Where does that even come from? I practically got no friends here, other than you, dumbass. And when have we had any time where I can show off some leadership? I just don't get where you're coming from."

"I, uh, I guess you're right," Marco said after a few moments' consideration, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess it's mostly my, um, read. I can see it in your normal way of getting stuff done."

Jean smiled mischievously. He put his arm around Marco's neck, pulling him close, so that their foreheads touched. "You don't need to blow smoke up my ass. If I'm a good leader, you're a great one, Marco. Even a shit like Eren can see that. I wasn't lying. If I have to go into a fight-- and believe me, I'm joining the Police to avoid that very thing -- you'd be the first person I'd want to have my back! But you gotta stop trying to make everybody else do better, and do for yourself. Nobody's going to do the same for you, man. And..." Jean squeezed Marco a little bit more.

"...and I'd really miss my pal if he didn't get into the MP with me!" Then Jean did something Marco would never have expected. He kissed Marco on the top of the head. It was aggressive, and non-romantic, and was basically lips on hair, but it was shockingly affectionate. Jean followed up by thrusting Marco away, not in a disgusted manner, but with a, "I'm done" kind of casualness. Why did Jean do that? Was he just so comfortable with Marco? As Jean sped up, apparently oblivious to the effect he had, Marco stopped.

_Three months. Three months living with him, fighting with him. And I think I might be... Stop it, Marco! It's not like that. But, he does care. He does._

Marco rubbed his eyes, wiping away the sting of potential tears. Instead, a bright grin stretched across his face, and he hurried to catch up with his friends. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I'm generally going with the anime's version of events, for those who have read the manga, you may recognize references to a scene that was only there. It's a scene that is reshuffled to take place much later (within the narrative's chronology) in the anime, and even then it was just the latter half preserved. I figured it worked well enough to have Marco give the same description twice, as they were under very different circumstances, and the first half was key to my concept of Marco.
> 
> Also, the anime has most of the training scenes take place in the year 850, which made it seem that all the character interactions were loaded in that last year of training. I went more with the manga for that too, where it was more ambiguous.


	11. After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hints at manga spoilers ahead. You're warned!

1 September 850

Marco awoke with the sun, despite how warn out he felt. A lot of the other guys were already up as well, trained as they were for early mornings after three years of heavily regimented schedules. Marco sat up and moved to the edge of the bed, and nearly knocked his face into Connie's bare foot. While he was no Bertolt, Connie could be a chaotic sleeper, and he was often hanging over the edge of his bed.

The thing was, Connie wasn't supposed to be in the bunk above Marco. That was Jean's place. When they'd arrived here yesterday morning, Jean had gone in the barracks alongside Marco, and without even thinking, they took a bunk set together. It was a stupid, minor thing. But Jean had purposefully, after their fight, switched bunks with Connie. In the middle of the night. Marco felt fresh tears threaten, but managed to hold them off. He had cried enough last night. He needed to get his act together, and do his job.

He slapped Connie's foot a few times, but when that proved fruitless, he stood up and started shaking him. Connie made some angry noises, but eventually made motions to get up. Marco turned around and began gathering things for a shower, as he hadn't managed to squeeze one in last night.  _Too much drama and angst, right?_ He smiled humorlessly to himself.

"Hey Marc," Connie said as he sprang from the top bunk, landing behind Marco. "What happened last night? You okay? What were you and Jean fighting about?"

Marco breathed in slowly, then turned around to face Connie. "You heard that, huh?"

"Well, even if he hadn't woken me up to switch bunks, I think everybody heard him shouting."

_Damn._

"He doesn't want me to join the Scouts. He thinks I'm crazy. He might be right." Was this a lie? Is an omission a lie? Was Jean right to call him a liar?

"I remember him acting all weird at the party. I don't get why he suddenly cares what other people do. He never did before."

"That's... not completely true, Connie. Jean just cares a lot about himself. It doesn't mean he doesn't care about others. I mean, he works as part of the team. Like during the survival trials... and, remember when Krista was kidnapped?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Still... seems out of character for him."

"Maybe. Well, I guess either way it won't m-matter after today," Marco tried to collect himself, having choked up. Connie looked confused, then concerned. 

"Marco, are you sure you're okay? Did he punch you or something?"

"I'm fine," Marco lied. He changed the subject. "I'm heading for a shower."

* * *

The line for the showers was long. Unlike at the training facility, the Garrison HQ wasn't meant for long-term habitation by a large number of soldiers. Located at the highest point within Trost's walls, it was mostly meant for meetings and resupply stops. As it was in the city, most of the Garrison lived offsite in their own homes. Marco's dad had told of staying in HQ's barracks, as commuting to Trost from Jinae daily would not have been easy.

It seemed very few cadets had opted for showers last night, and so the bulk of the 167 male cadets of the 104th Trainee Corps' Southern Division were trying to shower at the same time. Luckily for them, Trost being a city, getting water heated wasn't nearly as much of a problem. Marco stood against the wall in his undershirt and shorts, with Connie to his side. He was buck naked, save for the towel wrapped around his head as if he were a girl drying her long hair. Over the years Marco had managed to make shower time less awkward for himself by being quick and focused. Now he had to deal with Connie hopping around, with his parts flopping this way and that.

"Oi, Connie," Reiner said, coming up to them. "You'd think we'd get one day where we didn't have to stare at your bare ass. Not even on the last day, huh?" Reiner was only wearing pajama bottoms, showing off his giant, muscled chest. Marco had never really been attracted to Reiner, but it was hard not to stare at such an impressive physique.

"Psshhhh," Connie said, "You'll miss it when I'm gone." Reiner was startled for a moment by this, and a pained expression briefly manifested on his face. It was a confusing sight on Reiner, who was normally pretty together. Then again, Reiner was a very caring big brother type, and so he was probably just realizing that they were nearing the end of this chapter of their lives and hadn't really thought about it before. Marco felt a twang of sympathy for the big man.

Reiner pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment before turning to Marco. "You wanna talk?"

"Huh?" Marco asked, surprised.

"About what happened."

Marco put his hand on his forehead and sighed. "Guess you're right, Connie. Everybody heard."

"I may be a dumbass, but my ears work fine, Marco," Connie said, puffing his chest out.

"You're not a dumb... er, ass," Marco said, hesitating over the word _ass._ It was weird for Marco to even come close to swearing aloud. He recalled his loose tongue fighting with Jean a few hours earlier. _What an effect he has on me. Had on me._

"Well?" Reiner asked, cutting off that avenue of discussion.

"I'm okay," Marco said. "Things were said. Things are done. There's no point in bothering dwelling on it. It's all over now."

At this, Reiner shook his head, and leaned in close so only Marco could hear. "I think he loves you too, but just doesn't understand it."

Marco almost fell over after hearing this. "What?!"  _Oh, right, I forgot how obvious I've been. But there's no way... Jean's never indicated he loved me in any way other than a friend._

Reiner pulled away from Marco. "Just my intuition. I'm an expert in many things, including the human heart. If you wanna talk about it, come see me. I got to get out of here, though, before I go blind looking at Connie's junk."

"It's pretty amazing, I know," Connie said, apparently not catching on to anything Reiner was talking about otherwise. 

"Uh, maybe we'll talk later today..." Marco mumbled, looking down, his face red. When he was greeted by silence, he looked back up, and Reiner was gone. He looked around quickly, not seeing where Reiner had disappeared to. How could such a big guy be so stealthy?

 _Don't go getting stupid ideas, Marco_ , he thought.  _It's best to leave it alone. Jean is gone from your life_. 

"Hey Marco," a voice said, breaking into Marco's thoughts. His eyes focused on what was in front of him, and he saw Thomas standing before him. Thomas, like Reiner, was only wearing pajama bottoms. Marco was a bit taken aback. He had seen Thomas shirtless loads of times, but now it was different, somehow. He wanted to touch him again. An even stranger feeling went through his mind: guilt. Not for his dad, but... for Jean? _Am I going crazy?_

"H-Hey," Marco said. "How's it going, Thomas?"

"Fine." There were several long moments of silence where both looked away from each other.

"Come on," another voice spoke up. It was Samuel, who had come with Thomas. "Thomas wants to talk to you about the shit from last night."

"What shit?" Connie asked.

Samuel smirked. "The three of us were making out last night." Marco and Thomas gasped in unison.

Connie was confused, then alarmed. "Huh?!"

"Mina was there, so it's cool," Samuel said, as if that made it make sense. 

The gears were not turning quite so quickly for Connie. "I don't understand. So, are you really gay, Marco?"

Thomas gasped again, but Marco was confused. "Gay?"

"Wow, you are _not_ a city boy," Samuel said. "It's an old word, from before the Walls, I think. Means a fag, but nicer."

"Oh. I got it from Reiner," Connie responded. "It was when we were talking about you and Jean. How you're gay for him."

 _Even Connie. EVEN CONNIE_. 

"Do you want to get us killed, Sam?!" Thomas whispered. "Not everybody is as open-minded as you!"

Samuel seemed to think it over, but then acquiesced. "Okay, you're right."

"I still don't get it," Connie said, looking bewildered. Samuel put his arm around the other boy's shoulders.

"I'll explain in a minute. We'll keep your spot, Marco," Samuel smiled. "Now get out of here."

Marco's head was spinning. "Okay..."

He began walking back to his bunk, and could sense Thomas following him. The room with the beds would probably be fairly empty by now, and they could talk without having to be too discreet. There weren't any secluded locations Marco was aware of, so it would have to be out in the open.

They reached Marco's bunk, and sat down next to each other. The silence stretched for several seconds. Then finally Thomas spoke.

"I... I really like you, Marco."

"You do?" Marco was surprised.

"Yeah. I guess I didn't realize til yesterday. I've known I was gay for a while, but it wasn't a big deal. I told Sam, 'cause he's my best friend, and he was really great about it, but I never did anything with anybody til last night."

He paused. "We were all drunk and depressed, and Mina just started kissing Sam all of a sudden. I was just sitting there watching, when Sam grabbed me and pulled me in, and kissed me too. It was..."

"Amazing," Marco interrupted, lightly touching his lips with the tips of his fingers.

"Uh, yeah," Thomas continued. "So, somehow, Mina and I, we thought of you at the same time. I'm sorry, I didn't think about how it'd affect you. It was just... lust, I guess?"

Marco smiled. "Don't apologize," he said. "I didn't know what I was doing, but I liked it. A lot."

Thomas turned to face Marco. He gently took Marco's hand. "You are the nicest guy I've ever met. You're a great leader, and so smart, and... I, um... I love your freckles..." His face was deep scarlet. "Oh, man, I sound so dumb."

Marco wanted to say it was nothing, but he was so flustered himself, it was hard to think. 

"I... Yeah, I'm 'gay' too. You probably already know, since everybody knows. I'm in love with Jean," Marco said, and felt such guilt when he saw Thomas's expression of intense disappointment. _Not everybody after all._

"But Jean and I are done. He knows how I feel, and hates me. So, it works out we're not going to the MP together, I guess."

"I'm sorry," Thomas said.

"So, I don't know what to do, but before anything..." he felt a swell of excitement in his chest, the first good feeling he'd felt today, "can happen between, you know, you and me, I gotta get through this day. Close the book. We'll ship out with the Scouts tomorrow, and then... we'll talk more, okay?"

"Yeah," Thomas said with cheer. "Tomorrow..." He quickly looked around, and then lifted his eyebrows as if asking permission. Marco made his own apprehensive survey of the room, and seeing no one nearby, nodded. They kissed lightly for a few seconds, but when Thomas started kissing more deeply, Marco placed his hand on the other boy's chest, and gently pushed him away. 

"Tomorrow." Marco said again, and stood up. "We really need to get ready." Marco pulled Thomas up to his feet, realizing they were still holding hands. Reluctantly, he let go. The two boys began the walk back toward the shower queue.

Marco was once again feeling a bit happier after his brief talk with Thomas. He tried not to think too much about what a life with Thomas would bring.


	12. Leader

10 May 848

Marco was walking his horse back to her stall in the stables in the early evening. Beside him, Armin did the same. It had been a little over a month since they had begun riding lessons in earnest, and a few of them had been standout in bonding with the horses. Armin and he were among them. For Armin, it seemed to be one of the few physical activities he could excel in. 

Marco looked at his friend. He really liked Armin. He was super smart, but very humble. So much the opposite of Jean. Watching Armin work out a problem was amazing, as his mind moved so fast. If Armin had confidence in his own abilities, he could be a leader that could outshine any of them... even Jean.

Marco chided himself.  _Why am I so obsessed with this guy?_ It was kind of annoying to constantly be thinking about everything in terms of how it relates to one person, and yet, he couldn't help it. 

_No, you can help it. You just need to put the effort you use in thinking about Jean into thinking about how to get yourself to like girls._

He made a face, annoyed with this stupid argument he was having with himself. What was the point of the recriminations and self-loathing? 

"Hey, Marco," Armin said, sounding apologetic. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Huh?" Marco asked, confused. 

"You look so annoyed. It's unlike you."

"Oh, I guess I just felt too comfortable, and let my heart show on my sleeve."

Armin seemed to ponder that for a second. "Too comfortable?"

"Around you, I guess. I like to think I can be myself around you."

Armin smiled. "Oh! That's a really nice thing to say. Thank you. But how is that 'too' comfortable?"

"Oh, um..." Marco shook his head, "I guess I'm not the most forthcoming when it comes to my feelings."

Armin looked at him. Marco could practically see Armin's thoughts roiling. Which was strange, because this was such an inane topic.

"I never thought you were someone who hid his feelings before, but now that I think about it, I haven't really seen you upset very often. I think I'll take it all as a compliment, that I can bring out your feelings by my bumbling."

"What? Armin, what are you talking about?"

"You're annoyed at me."

Marco laughed. "No! I was thinking about Jean."

"Ah, of course."

"Of... course?"

"I hate to speak badly of anyone, but Jean can get many people annoyed at him."

Marco stopped walking, patting his horse's nose. He did not want this conversation to get too close to any other cadets. "Yes, I know he does. But I was thinking about how I think about him too much."

Armin, also having stopped walking, stared at him. Armin seemed to be weighing what to say next, or maybe what to ask. Marco felt a cold surge of fear rise in his chest. Armin was  _very_ smart, after all. Could he have figured out that Marco was attracted to Jean?

"I think it comes down to when you love someone very much, they just become part of your thoughts. Like with myself and Eren and Mi--."

"You're in love with Eren?!" Marco exclaimed.

Armin almost jumped at this. "I... what?" Marco's mind raced as he saw Armin's eyes move as the gears in his head turned. Too comfortable indeed.  _Damn_.  _Love, not in love. Why did I jump there? Crap crap crap_. _  
_

"Are you telling me you're in love with Jean?" Armin asked.

Marco swallowed. He wasn't sure what to say at all. The cold in his chest was now accompanied by a tightness. "I... um... I don't know."

Armin considered him. "I've never heard of a boy being in love with another boy before. I suppose there doesn't need to be any reason why it couldn't happen. But I always thought of love, love like that I mean, as part of the marriage and parenting cycle. But perhaps it's just more common between boys and girls, but could also happen between boys... or between girls." His eyes widened, and he smiled broadly. "That's why Ymir is always talking to Krista that way!"

"Oh!" Marco said. That made a lot of sense. Ymir was some sort of girl homosexual.

After a few more seconds, Armin spoke. "So, you might be in love with Jean. I've never been in love before. I don't even know what kind of girl I like. Or boy, I suppose. What a weird concept."

Marco found it surprising that Armin had never heard of homosexuals before, but then again, Armin probably had never had to deal with those feelings, and may not have noticed.

"You've never heard the word poof, or fag, or fruit?"

"I've heard all those words, but only the third one has any real meaning to me. Poof? Isn't that what someone says when there's smoke in a magic show?"

Marco shook his head. "No. They're words for homosexuals. For guys that go with other guys. They're insults. Slurs."

Armin contemplated this. "I see. So, people who do this, feel this way, are not accepted."

"No."

"And you're one of them."

"Y- No. I... no, I don't, I um, I just have to..." he stammered.

"Well, if you're worried I'll tell anyone, you don't have to be."

Marco nodded. "I just... have to learn discipline. Be strong. Be a man."

Armin said nothing for a few moments, then said, "Your father haunts you, doesn't he?"

Marco jumped. He didn't mention his father. Why did Armin bring his father up?

A silence fell between them. Armin seemed to be patiently waiting for him to say something. He wasn't sure he wanted to deal with the idea that his father was somehow beyond the grave manipulating him... whatever Armin meant by that. He turned his thoughts to Armin's apparent ignorance of the whole situation.

"So... you don't disapprove?" Marco finally asked. "Of me... having... feelings for another boy?"

Armin, thoughtful as ever, took a moment to speak. "I can't see what your sexes matter in how you feel about someone. I can't say that I understand it, but I don't know if I understand attraction much at all. I know there are books about it..." Armin then got the strangest expression. If Marco didn't know him, he would say it was mischievous. He didn't spend a lot of time thinking about that, though, as waves of relief were washing over him, and the cold and tightness in his chest ebbed. 

"Thanks, Armin," Marco said. "I don't know if what I've been feeling is just a weak nature or some kind of mental illness--" Armin frowned at this, "--but it's nice to know someone doesn't hate me for it."

"If I may be so forward, what do you see in Jean? He's... kind of mean."

Marco laughed. "Yeah, I know. He's selfish, and incredibly arrogant. He's too blunt, and often thoughtless. He's really a terrible person for me to want... to love. But... I guess I see in him something... more, you know?"

"You _are_ always talking up his leadership skills. I haven't been able to see that myself."

"I guess I see in him a kind of... empathy? Is that the word? He helped me out the day we joined up. In a way he didn't have to. I mean, I think it's partially because he was already seeing that he was setting himself up to be lonely, and maybe he saw me as someone he could get along with. But, I think there was something more. Something deeper. An innate kindness he doesn't like to show 'cause it makes him feel weak. I think it's why he avoids leadership duties... because he understands how weak he really is.

"That first night," Marco continued, unsure why he was being so open, but it was nice to talk to someone about all his crazy thoughts about the boy he... felt for, "he cried. He had acted like his family was a great burden to him... and believe me, that put me off, because I love my family a lot. And he was crying for his mom. And I knew he was all show. He didn't want to be weak. But he doesn't understand, there's nothing wrong with being weak. I think if he can understand that's part of who he is, who all of us are, he can use that to make great decisions. I see that in a dozen small choices he makes every day."

"I don't know about all that with Jean," Armin finally spoke up. "But I take your word for it. You have many natural leadership qualities yourself, Marco, including obviously thinking a lot about the strengths and weaknesses of those you work with."

Marco shook his head. "No. I don't understand why people keep saying that."

Armin stared ahead. "I guess we can all just be our own worst critics." Marco almost guffawed at that, what with Armin seeming to constantly be in denial of his own value.

 _Maybe that's something I_ should _think about, though. Am I selling myself short?_

The pair resumed walking, a comfortable silence settling in. As they entered the the stable, they found Commandant Shadis waiting for them, standing with their fellow cadets Mikasa and Thomas. Marco and Armin saluted (while holding the reins in their left hands). "Sir!" they both shouted.

"Bodt. Arlert. You are late in returning the horses."

"Yes, sir," Marco said. "We were discussing the day's..."

He put his hand up. "It doesn't matter. I came here to hand you an assignment," he paused, handing a set of documents to Armin, "Tomorrow, you are to undertake a mission. This is a test of survival during peaceful conditions. There will be two squads of eight men each making a several days' long journey on horseback. One of the teams will be led by Wagner, with Ackerman acting as scribe. The other will be led by you, Bodt, with Arlert as your scribe."

"Sir?" Marco was surprised. "Are you certain you want me to lead a group? I don't know if I can--"

"Bodt. Are you suggesting I have made a poor decision in deciding who I want to lead this squad?"

Sweat beads started forming on Marco's forehead. Why was the commandant always so intense? "No, sir. I just think Cadet Kirstein might be a better fit for such a role."

"Interesting..." Shadis said, but his expression was unchanged, "...but I did not ask your opinion. I will give an explanation to the full corps tomorrow. Study those details." 

"Sir!" the four of them saluted again as Shadis left the stable. 

"I guess it's you versus me tomorrow," Thomas said once the commandant was gone. "My team will beat yours. We have Mikasa!" He gave a warm smile to her as he said this. She however, was looking at the documents and didn't notice, and Thomas's smile fell.

"Maybe not. Our team has Daz," Mikasa said matter-of-factly. Thomas immediately looked unhappy. 

Marco chuckled, even though it was mean. "What's our team look like?" he asked Armin, as he took the reins of both their horses to get them settled for the night.

"Sasha, Mina, Jean, Krista, Connie, and Eren." Marco sighed. Jean and Eren. Something about those two made them constantly clash. This was not going to be a fun mission. And here he was being asked to lead them. Well, at least he could finally get the others to see that he wasn't a leader. Not like that.

_Already failed, huh?  I should at least try. Maybe the others have something to what they say. Maybe the Commandant sees it in me too. And at the very least... maybe Jean can help me through this?_

Jean again. Always Jean. 


	13. Thunderbolt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a hard time trying to understand the mechanics of the 3D Gear. Sorry if I got it wrong!

1 September 850

Marco pressed the trigger again, holding it down to release enough gas to propel him upward. Scaling the Walls was not something one generally did easily, as it took a great deal more gas to travel vertically. With little momentum to help you up, it took a lot more to defy gravity.

He looked to the left and right, as his fellow cadets scaled alongside him, trying to make sure that everyone was getting up all right. He assumed most of them could do it, but it was a very physically taxing exercise. He wasn't sure why their soon-to-be former instructors had asked them to use their three-dimensional maneuver gear to get to the top of Wall Rose for their Garrison assignments, but maybe it was one last test. They had, after all, almost exclusively used trees to train rappelling from, save for the visit to Trost last year, and to Jinae the year before that. 

_That's when he met my family._

Marco chastised himself. Again. _It's over. MOVE ON. Thomas, remember? Sexy, fuzzy, gentle Thomas._

Marco tried to focus on the task at hand. It wasn't one that took long, but you had to be careful. There were many pock marks on Wall Rose, where hundreds of other soldiers had scaled it in the preceding hundred years. There was little concern that the Walls would suffer any sort of structural damage, but targeting a spot that was already too laden with holes could result in a weak hold by the grapple, and could bring injury or even death if you were too slow to react. It seemed, though, that they were all making it up uneventfully. With one final heavy burst of gas, Marco came over the edge, and landed with a jolt onto the roof. As he retracted his lines, he looked around to see who had made it near him. 

Only a few minutes earlier, he had been assigned to Mounted Cannon Maintenance Squad Three, one of the four groups of cadets assigned to the top of Wall Rose. They were to check the cannons to make sure they were greased and cleaned so they were ready in case of emergency. His squad was on the eastern border of Trost, and would be responsible for checking all the cannons along that edge. It seemed like busywork to him, but he understood that there were way too many soldiers in the city right now, and it was a job that needed to be done nonetheless.

The five other members of his squad walked over to where he stood. Bertolt, Mylius, Hannah, Krista. And, of course, to make his life extra dramatic, Jean. Each of the others, save Jean, all seemed to be looking at him expectantly, as if he were their leader. It seemed silly to Marco, as this job wasn't exactly something that needed direction, but it was also kind of touching.

_Last time I tried to lead, though, Krista was kidnapped. And Jean got shot. Is it a good idea for people to trust in me?_

"So...," he said when everyone seemed to be waiting on him. "I guess we should start in the northeast and head south?" At this, Mylius shrugged, Hannah nodded, and Krista smiled. Bertolt's sweating was in one of its heavier states. And Jean looked uninterested. The same expression he had last night, after his sudden shift in attitude. 

"I... suggest... we, um..." Bertolt said. Then he sighed. The five of them looked at Bert, who spoke so rarely it was almost an event, with intense curiosity. Even Jean's disinterested expression lifted somewhat.

"What is it, Bertolt?" Hannah asked.

"I'd like... I'd like to command this mission, if you don't mind... Marco," Bertolt said.

"Mission?" Mylius mumbled.

"Well," Marco responded, trying to keep his confusion out of his voice, "I'm not the leader of this squad, so feel free. I like your initiative, Bert!"

"Thanks," the tall boy said. Then Bert got deadly serious, giving commands, a coldness taking over his mien. It was a little scary, Marco thought. Bert was much the mystery, so nothing should particularly surprise him, but this did. "Krista, Hannah, Mylius, go to the northeast end of the Wall, and start working your way south. Jean, Marco, you join me on the southeast end. We'll head north and we'll all meet in the middle."

This was not going to be fun. With Bert not likely to be a conversation resource, it would be a lot of awkward silence working with Jean. Nonetheless, he nodded his assent. As the northbound trio passed him by, Marco was reminded once again that he had been terrible hiding his feelings for Jean. Mylius pat Marco on the shoulder and mumbled "Good luck, mate." Krista briefly took his hand and squeezed it. Hannah looked confused by the other two's actions, but then gave him a quick hug, and went on her way, as if to say she didn't understand, but she liked Marco too. That was something, at least.

As they were closer to the northeast side of Trost than the southeast, the three boys started jogging toward their destination. Bert, with his long stride, started accelerating after a while, and Marco and Jean sped up, but could not catch up to him easily. They were soon lagging behind, but eventually got to the southern end, where a small station with cleaning supplies and ammunition stood. While neither was winded by the near-sprint, Jean was always one to hate making any sort of unnecessary effort, and he seemed to have passed into an irritable mood.

"You two work on the cannons. I will handle the rails," Bert said after they had gathered their supplies. Marco almost protested, but Bert was already walking away from them. Jean made a disgusted sound, and moved to one of the cannons. He got started immediately, a frown setting in on his face.

Marco didn't immediately move to start working. While probably in part to avoid working with Jean, he was enraptured by the view. He had never gotten a chance to see beyond Wall Rose before the Fall. His father had always meant to show his family the view from here, but hadn't gotten around to it before he died. He had had a fleeting glimpse a year ago during the exercises, but that whole activity had been about getting a general layout of the place, and he had to absorb a lot of information, so didn't get time for sight-seeing.

Now he took a long moment to appreciate the beauty of the landscape before him. He could see whole forests, and mountains in the distance. The river that passed south from Trost went off into the horizon, where he knew it connected to the late, lamented city of Shiganshina. He saw a smattering of buildings, five years abandoned. And, as his eyes passed over the countryside, he saw _them_. 

Titans.

There were a few wandering near the Wall, reaching up as if they were asking some invisible parent for help getting over it. He could see them all over the vista, what looked like giant naked men, some of them having very strange features, while some looked almost human. He'd only seen drawings of them before. It was quite different to see one in real life. He couldn't help but be hit by a wave of revulsion. He shuddered.

_I am going to fight these things. I am likely going to die at the hands... the mouth... of one of them. I must be insane to choose this destiny. And yet... it's the right thing to do._

"Marco," he heard Jean say from behind him. "We need to get to work."

Marco turned to his former friend. Jean seemed to be trying to get himself to be as blasé as he was a few minutes ago, but he was failing.

"Yeah, okay," Marco replied. He set to doing his work.

After a couple of minutes, Marco had found a rhythm, and was working thoughtlessly, humming to himself. He didn't interact with Jean, and it was okay.

"Fuck you," Jean whispered suddenly. Marco stopped polishing the cannon base, stopped humming, and stood up. So, there was going to be confrontation after all. He sighed.  _One more for the road, Jean? All right._

He stared at Jean, whose face showed open anger. Of course, Jean wouldn't be able to hold his anger in for long. It just wasn't in him to let things lie. Marco waited a few moments to see if Jean would follow up on his swearing, but said nothing. It was like last night again. He considered just going back to work, but it was likely their last interaction. He should make it count. "Something wrong?" he finally said.

"That song. That one you're humming. Why are you humming it?"

This was unexpected. "What?"

"That song! Are you trying to piss me off, Marco?!"

Marco thought for a moment. What had he been humming? Ah. The song was one he had first heard a year ago. In Trost.

"No, Jean, I am not trying to piss you off. I was just humming. It has nothing to do with you."

"Right. After what you fucking said?"

"What? That I love you? Do you know how many songs talk about love? Pretty much all of them!"

Jean opened his mouth to respond, but then closed it. "Whatever," he said through gritted teeth. He turned away to return to work.

"Jean," Marco began, "I just... I just don't understand your anger about this."

Jean did not turn back to face Marco, but stood motionlessly.

"Yes, I love you, love you in that way, and I never told you. Does it matter? I mean, we never had any chance of any kind of future together. You don't feel the same about me. I know that. I've known that, for a long time. And I lived with it in silence. Because I value our friendship too much to risk it. So that's why I never told you. Is it dishonest? Maybe a little. But I... I didn't want you to hate me. I... I guess I failed at that, huh?"

"Shit," Jean muttered. He continued to face away from Marco. His shoulders were scrunched, in what was either rage or pain. This whole set of confrontations with Jean had a lot of silence from Jean, and Marco feeling forced to fill the space. It was what led to his stupid inadvertent confession last night. Marco relied on his patience reserves, and waited silently.

He looked around, wondering if Bertolt had heard any of this. He didn't see their erstwhile mission commander anywhere. Had he descended the Wall?

Marco was about to call out for Bertolt when Jean spoke, diverting his full attention. 

"Fuck, Marco, I don't hate you. How could I?" He turned around, and Marco's heart leapt in his chest. Jean's eyes were brimming with tears. "You're my best friend. I wanted you to be there by my side my whole fucking life. And now you're going away, and I saw it coming. I knew you were gonna. I heard Eren's lofty fucking words for three years, and I knew your stupid heroism wouldn't let you be a selfish bastard like me. Not forever. And I didn't know what to do. And then... and then you told me what you did. And now I know, you're going to join the Scouts to get away from me. I mean, how fucked is that. I hurt you that fucking much. 'Cause I'm so goddamn self-centered."

"Jean..." Marco began. "You're wrong. You--"

At that moment, a clap of what sounded like thunder and flashed like lightning struck. A gust of air from the west blew their hair and clothes. The two boys turned to where the sound had come from. 

"Oh my god," Marco said in a whisper. Jean gasped.

In the distance, at the gate leading outside Trost, looming over a group of cadets, was the Colossal Titan.


	14. Credit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty short chapter.

12 May 848

Marco slowly ascended the staircase to the watchtower overlooking the training grounds. He was taking his time, as he carried two steaming cups with him. As he reached the top, he walked around Eren, who was leaning over the outlook with his arms crossed. A cool breeze was blowing, a stark contrast from the hot horse ride back here earlier in the afternoon.

As he walked into Eren's line of sight, he said, "I shouldn't have accepted the group leader position." It was something he had been ruminating over since the mission had so utterly failed. Eren turned to him as he finished his statement. 

"Really? It seemed to me that it fit you," Eren replied, taking a mug. His face didn't betray much of a response. Marco turned to look out over the campsite and the land beyond. 

"Nah, I'm not suited to be a leader," he said. "Jean's more suited for the job."

"Jean?!" Eren said incredulously. "Leave me out then."

Marco laughed lightly, and turned toward his friend again. "You'll understand someday." This Marco was certain of. Last night had cemented what Marco had thought for several months. When Eren had declared he would go after Krista even if he had to do it alone, it was Jean who got the rest of them to go along. 

"I wonder about that..." Eren responded, clearly not taking his word for it. Marco looked at Eren, who now rested his face in his right hand, admiring the other boy for a moment. He was a lot shorter than Marco, even though they were only a year or so apart in age. He was mostly turned away, but from his vantage, the young man's deep green eyes looked content. Marco felt a surge of love for his friend. Truth be told, Eren's passion had just as much to do with mitigating the disaster as Jean's leadership. Could Eren ever serve under Jean? It was an interesting question. If they could find a way to get along, they'd be a force to be reckoned with. Like last night. 

"I wonder what kind of soldiers everyone will become," Marco said. Eren didn't respond, but they stood in comfortable silence for a few moments, as a strong gust blew. 

Marco stifled a yawn, then took a sip of his tea. He kind of wished for a chair. He was exhausted. None of the sixteen cadets that had gone out on the mission yesterday had gotten much sleep at all. Commandant Shadis hadn't seemed to think that they deserved respite. It was approaching dusk, and he and Eren had been assigned the admittedly easy task of lookout. It was usually the job of an upperclassman, so maybe Shadis didn't want to push them too hard. It seemed to be the closest Shadis came to leniency.

"Hey, Marco, why do you want to be a soldier again?" Eren was now facing him, having turned away from the view. He thought about the question, and how it related to his own pondering statement.

"I want to serve the king to the best of my ability," he gave his rote answer. It wasn't a false answer. It was just what he always said. He left out the giving life and limb part he once proudly included, though. That had been painful to hear thrown back at him by Commandant Shadis, and he'd avoided using it since then.

"I remember you saying that. What does it mean? You really think highly of King Fritz?"

"Of course I do! He's the king." What a strange question. It had never really occurred to him that you could _not_ respect the king.

Eren appeared to think about that for a moment. "Isn't the king just a man? Like you and me?"

"I... I guess so. I never really thought about it before. You... _don't_ like the king?" Marco, up until a moment ago, had been feeling quite calm, but now he felt nervous. He hoped Eren wasn't going to start talking treason.

Eren didn't seem to be feeling any anxiety, and responded nonchalantly. "I have no opinion one way or the other. I'll follow his orders, of course. He's the leader of humanity. I think I'd like him more if he was more proactive about defeating the Titans, though."

Marco laughed. _One track mind is our Eren._

"It's just that when you mentioned what kind of soldiers we'd become, after talking about Jean, it got me thinking... I just don't get him. All this effort to join the MP. I mean, I kind of get that. He wants an easy life. But working his ass off to be lazy? I dunno, it seems so..." He trailed off.

Marco considered the idea. It was a bit ironic a means of getting to said end, sure. But then, he didn't think Jean's goal was to be lazy.

"I think he's scared," Marco said.

Eren looked at him with a look of confusion. "What's Jean scared of? He sure wasn't scared when we went after those kidnappers." Eren smiled slightly. "In fact, he was really damned brave. It was surprising."

"Jean cares about people, Eren. I know he said he did it because of his wounded pride, but you think he would risk his life for that?"

"Yeah, I do. 'Cause for all he sucks, he is honest. I think if he cared about Krista, he'd have said so."

"Just 'cause Jean's honest doesn't mean he knows his own heart."

"Shit, Marco! You really try too hard to find the good in everything," Eren laughed. 

"I'll take that as a compliment," Marco returned with a grin.

Eren lightly punched Marco in the arm. His eyes shined with amusement, and Marco again remembered how beautiful Eren was. He started to mentally admonish himself for his thoughts, but decided he was too tired to.

"I want you to serve the king, Marco. I do. I want your dream to come true. And I'm going to do what I set out to do. That's why no matter what rank I get, I'm joining the Survey Corps. I know you think the best way to serve the king is through the Military Police, and that'd be a great place for you to go. But, whether you think you're a good leader or not, I know I'd feel better about my chances if I had you by my side."

Marco's eyes got a little misty. It wasn't quite a plea to join him, but that was the gist. What did he do to engender such good will from his friends?

"We have more than two years for me to make that decision. It may be a moot point, anyway. I'm really not that good."

Eren sighed loudly, then shook his head.

Silence fell between them again, this time a lot less comfortably. Marco wasn't sure what he'd said to annoy his friend. "I, um... I'm sorry, Eren."

Eren finished his tea and placed the mug on the floor, then returned to leaning out, his arms crossed. "Don't be," he said. "Just do your best. Try not to think what you can't do, but what you can. If you fight, you win."

_So he's disappointed in my defeatist attitude._

"All right, Eren. I will try. Maybe I am a leader."  _Despite recent failures._

"I definitely think so," the other boy said, a smile returning to his face. "You want to know what kind of soldier I think you'll be? A great one. If you let yourself be."


	15. Colossus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the novelization.

1 September 850

It was hideous. Its nearly skinless body (just as Eren had described it) was bright red with shiny ropes of muscle. Its cheeks revealed teeth far more numerous than what would be in a human mouth. Its face was long, but its head, sitting atop a body Marco could only see from the shoulders up, seemed disproportionately small. It was the most horrible thing he had ever seen in his life, and the craziest thing was... it looked familiar.

He began to look to Jean, but his attention was immediately drawn back to the Titan, as a great cloud of gas (steam?) emanated from it, blowing across the top of Wall Rose. There was a loud crashing noise that accompanied it. Marco could see the force of the gas propel the six cadets from the Wall.

He tried to move, but felt himself frozen, unable to even think about what he could do to help. He saw five of the figures use their 3D Gear to cling to the Wall, but one continued to fall, head first. One of the others ran down the side of the Wall and shot their grapple into the body of the falling figure, saving them. Marco knew who the "hero" was. He'd seen such wild but amazing instinct plenty of times before. Sasha.

For a few moments, he watched the cadets hanging on the side, and then noticed, from his vantage, the damage in the areas near the Wall that debris had caused. The crashing sound had been the sound of it breaking through the gate.

 _It's over. Humanity has fallen._ Marco's thoughts rose unbidden. He had to fight to keep his knees from buckling. He even felt his bladder begin to loosen until he saw that one of the figures was flying upward toward the colossus.

Eren. He knew it immediately. Eren was going to fight it directly.

He finally looked at Jean, who was just as mesmerized. "Jean," he whispered. "We... we have to do something..."

"Eren..." Jean said under his breath. Marco was once again drawn to look at the scene in front of him. Eren was running toward the Titan, who was rearing up. It slowly drew its right arm back, and swept it across the top of the Wall. Eren leapt out of the way as its arms knocked the cannons off the surface. It was destroying the cannons on purpose! He saw Eren, after avoiding the monster's grasp, hook himself onto the Titan itself, and land on its left arm.

 _He's going to die. Eren is going to die._ But he didn't die. Not yet. He ran up its arm toward the shoulder, and jumped off behind it. At that point, Eren disappeared from view. The creature then spewed a much larger blast of steam, fogging up the entire area around the gate.

With the view obscured, Marco saw Jean's paralysis break. He ran toward the interior side of the Wall, and jumped off, firing his gear shortly after launching, presumably hooking into the Wall itself in order to descend.

Marco's own paralysis didn't pass away so quickly. He looked back over to where the Titan had appeared, and saw it was gone. Vanished. How? If the gas was Titan steam, did it mean that it died? It made no sense...

He saw two of the other cadets land on the ruins of that section of the cannon line, and looked down to see the two others using their gear to carry the injured one down to the ground. Another figure joined the two at the top, coming from beyond the Wall. Its movements indicated it was Eren. Thank God! Whatever had caused the Titan to disappear had not killed him.

Marco began to move. He started to run westward, toward the other cadets. His movement stopped when he heard the sound of 3D Gear behind him, and he turned around to see Bertolt come over the side. He'd been outside Rose? When he landed, his eyes locked with Marco's, and he saw a quick flash of emotions pass over Bertolt's face. What looked like anger, despair, pure malice. Marco felt fear anew, as he wondered if his friend was going to kill him. Had he snapped after seeing the monster?

"Marco," Bertolt said, sheathing his swords. Marco inwardly felt relief. Bertolt wouldn't hurt him. "Protocol says if the Colossal Titan appears, we should immediately seek a person of authority for instructions."

"You're right. But I wanted to make sure Eren was okay." He looked back at that scene, and saw that other soldiers were now beginning to ascend the Wall, and the three cadets were joined by another soldier.

"Right. So that was Eren," Bert said softly. "I couldn't really tell from my viewpoint."

"Where were you? I noticed you were gone just before the Titan appeared."

 "I wanted to check out the cannons on the lower tier. Sorry I didn't say anything. You and Jean were having some kind of discussion and I didn't want to interrupt."

Marco's face was red. "Oh." His conflict with Jean looked pretty insignificant now.

"Where's Jean?" Bert asked.

Marco looked around and below, and the sheer number of soldiers that were sailing through the air made it hard to distinguish anyone. "He descended, I think. Right after the Titan disappeared."

"We... we should probably... go after him." That cold calmness that had been driving Bert for a while was gone, and he started sweating.

"Yeah," Marco agreed. He looked again at the site of the destruction, and saw it swarming with soldiers. Eren and the other cadets were probably gone. Marco walked over to the ledge and stepped off, firing his gear quickly to begin rappelling down Wall Rose.

* * *

Shortly after arriving at Headquarters, after filling his gas tanks, Marco headed for the courtyard, as per the instructions that were spreading around. At some point, Marco and Bertolt had become separated, so Marco had no one he knew well to talk to. He wanted to run and find somebody... Eren, Sasha, Thomas, Jean... but in the chaos that was erupting around him, it seemed pretty futile. He calmly entered the open space, now filling up with dozens of confused and upset soldiers. The chatter was low, as everyone seemed dumbstruck by the destruction of the gate. 

He wandered about until he saw a group of five cadets --Eren, Sasha, Thomas, Connie, and Mina-- exit the office wing. Marco jogged over to them, and tried to smile. "Guys!"

The small group turned toward him. None of them returned the smile, but they all looked like they were pleased to see him. He wanted to embrace each one in turn, but then thought it might be too awkward.

"Are you all okay?" he asked.

"Mostly," Thomas muttered. His eyes were half-lidded, and red-rimmed.

"Samuel's in the infirmary. He's going to be okay, we think. He's going to be evacuated," Mina said.

"It was Samuel?" Marco asked. "The one who fell?"

"Yeah," Connie said. "Thanks to Sasha, he's alive. Though he may never walk again."

"Better than dead," Eren said, his expression one of intensity (as usual). "I'm going to replenish my tanks." He walked off.

After watching Eren go, Marco said, "Great job, Sasha!"

"Yeah..." she mumbled. The disquiet from such usually jovial friends like Sasha and Connie was making Marco feel worse. For a moment there, seeing the Colossus, he had felt overwhelming despair, but that feeling had leveled out. It threatened to return when looking at the faces of his friends.

"We should probably all refill our tanks," Thomas said, gesturing for them all to follow Eren's lead. The four departed. Marco considered following them, but then he spotted Jean. His gaze switched between Jean and Thomas's receding form.  _How can I possibly be thinking about my damned romantic problems at a time like this?_

His view of Thomas was cut off by Mikasa, who was running toward the interior refueling station. Marco shook his head and smiled slightly.  _I'm not the only one, I guess_.

_If Trost falls... I could very well die today. It's my duty after all. Thomas is my future... maybe... if I have one. But Jean is the one I loved. Love. I can't leave it like this._

Marco turned to where he saw Jean. He was standing amongst the gathering lines of soldiers. His face was neutral, and his eyes a little distant and vacant.  _What can I say to him? We were so close to maybe reconciling... damn the Titans._

He started walking toward Jean. As he approached, he saw Jean's eyes flit around to see him. Marco tried to smile, but Jean turned away, his expression unreadable. Maybe this just wasn't the time to have any sort of discussion. It's not like they could talk openly among the entire 104th. Marco decided to stand near Jean, but not talk to him yet. Besides, their orders would be coming up soon. Captain Woerman and some of his aides had arrived. Trost's Garrison leader did not look well.

Marco stood quietly in line with the other cadets, occasionally taking a glance toward Jean. He tried to focus on the Titan task, but he was unable to think too long about that before terror and despair would threaten to overwhelm him, so he thought instead about Jean and how they might resolve their conflict. Then he would feel guilty, and try to think about the Titans again. This cycle went through several iterations over the next ten minutes. _  
_

His thoughts were on the ridiculous idea that Jean might realize he was in love with Marco too, when Woerman bellowed out at the gathered cadets. Looking around, he saw that the cadets had fully gathered. The entire 104th, save Samuel Linke-Jackson, who less than twenty-four hours ago had been so hopeful...

"As practiced, you will now split into your squads and perform resupply, message relay, and Titan-clearing duties under the command of the Garrison Regiment!"

 _Right. Squad Nineteen_ , Marco remembered. _I'm its leader._

"The Garrison Regiment's intercept squad will take the vanguard! The cadets, led by the support squad, will take the middle guard! And the Garrison Regiment's elite squads will take the rearguard! Additionally, I've received word that the advance team has been wiped out!"

Marco let out an involuntary gasp. He was not the only one.

Woerman continued, "The outer gate has been breached, and the Titans have been allowed inside! In other words, the Armored Titan could very well appear again and demolish the inner gate as well!"

At this, his fellow cadets began to break military protocol and murmur. 

"You gotta be kidding me," he heard Thomas say, standing just in front of Jean. This was immediately followed by another cadet, Nac, saying, "If they end up breaching Wall Rose too..." Apparently many of them had not fully grasped what the Colossus's attack might imply. He had known. He suspected Jean had, too.

"Quiet!" Woerman bellowed, ending the chatter. "The vanguard is currently engaged with the enemy! This defense operation has but one objective: to defend Wall Rose until the citizens have finished evacuating! Also, as I'm sure you're well aware, desertion is punishable by death! Be prepared to lay down your lives! Dismissed!"

Marco was stunned again, this time by Woerman's threat. Was it supposed to keep people in line? Why would you want to fill already terrified soldiers with fear of their own commanders? Nevertheless, he joined the rest of the cadets in salute in the cry of "Sir!"

There was a sudden rush of cadets running every which way, presumably to join their squads, but it just looked like a panicked mob scattering. Marco decided to stay in his position as the crowd thinned out, and look for each of his squadmates. Who was in Nineteen? Annie, Jan, Karl Kurtz, Karl Hoffman, and... Samuel. His squad was down one. It would probably be necessary to make sure it was okay to go ahead with just five squad members.

The sound of Jean's voice drew his attention. "Why today? I would've been on my way to the interior tomorrow..." Jean was somewhat hunched over, holding his face in his hand. Marco wasn't sure whether to feel bad for Jean or to be angry at his selfish whining.

Both of their attentions were drawn to the sound of retching, as Daz, on all fours on the ground, started vomiting. Krista knelt next to him, rubbing his back.  _Dear God, I am so glad Daz is not on my squad. Sorry, Jean._

 Jean stormed away from Daz in disgust. His shoulders were scrunched in tension, and he looked at the ground as he walked. Marco could see Jean was about to crash into Eren, who was similarly looking down. This would not be good. Marco moved to intercept them, when the collision happened.

"Move!" Jean exclaimed after seeing who he'd bumped into. He started to move past Eren angrily, but Eren grabbed his arm. 

"Hey, Jean! What's wrong?!" Eren said.

"'What's wrong?!'" Jean shouted. "That's easy for you to say, you suicidal maniac!" Jean pushed himself close into Eren's face. "You  _want_ to join the Scouts! You're ready to be Titan chow any time! But I was headed for the interior tomorrow!" _  
_

"Calm down!" Eren said.

"You expect me to calm down and accept death?!"

"No!" Eren shouted, and shoved Jean against a pillar. "Think back! Think back to the three years of sweat and blood we endured!" This caught Jean's attention, snapping him from his wild rage. "So many times we came close to dying during those three years! Some people  _did_ die. Some ran off. Others were kicked out. But  _we_ survived! Right?! I'm sure we can survive today, too! You can just survive today and leave for the interior tomorrow!"

Eren let go of Jean. Clearly, Eren's words had affected Jean, who was stunned silent. After a moment, with a small curse, he turned from Eren and walked away. With a raspy voice, he said, "Let's go, Daz! Quit your damn cryin'!"

Jean pulled Daz up by the arm, and they began to move out. Marco moved to follow them. He was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw it was Thomas. Already feeling pressured to get to task with his squad, he was not happy to have to talk to Thomas now. There wasn't any time. He had to deal with Jean. Now.

Thomas quietly said, "Marco. Can we talk? Before we join our squads?" His expression was one of pain. He was obviously upset about what happened to Samuel, his best friend, on top of everything else. Marco wanted to be there for him. He did. But there was no time.

"We'll meet up soon. I really... I gotta go. Close the book, remember?" Marco said apologetically.

"Right, okay," Thomas said, obviously disappointed. 

"Thomas, we'll survive. Like Eren said. Tomorrow is the rest of our lives."

"Okay." Thomas looked defeated for a moment, then gathered himself up, and even smiled. "See you on the rooftops."

Marco hurried in the direction of Jean. He had reached one of the exits to the street, having gathered his squad together. They were about to fire their gear to get airborne, and Marco knew he was about out of time. "Jean!" he cried out.

The six cadets of Squad Three turned toward him. Jean looked away quickly, muttering "Shit." He then spoke to Sasha. "I'll meet you up there in a minute." She nodded, and the she and the rest of Squad Three took off. Jean looked back around to face Marco. He gestured to another building. "We have to make this quick."

Marco nodded and launched himself into the air. After a couple of grapples, he landed on the roof Jean indicated. Jean landed next to him a second later.

"All right, Marco," Jean said the moment after he landed. "We got maybe a minute. What is it?"

_A minute. A minute to resolve the most important relationship in my life._

"When the Titan showed up... I was going to say. My decision wasn't your fault. I wanted... want... to join the Scouts because it's the right thing to do. Not because I'm in love with you."

Jean immediately got a lot more tense. "Do you have to say it that way?"

"You were pissed about me being honest, right? Well, it's the only true way of saying it. I'm in love with you."

Jean shook his head. "You know I'm in love with Mikasa."

Marco felt the familiar stab in his chest from that one. "I know."

"I  mean, I l-l-love you, too, but not in the way you want."

"I know."

"But... if I did, you might change your mind?"

This startled him. He looked into Jean's eyes, that were now glaring at him.

"You mean... join the MP after all?" Marco asked.

"Yeah, if I did. Love you like you want. Would you change your mind?"

"Shit," Marco said, Jean once again getting him to curse. "I... I... that's not fair, Jean!"

"Life's not fair, Marco. That's why we got to get what we can out of it. Why I always wanted to join the MP, because I knew it wasn't fair, and you got to force it to be the way you want it to be. So I will survive today, and I will go to the MP. What are you going to do?"

For a moment lost for words, he built up his resolve. "I'm going to join the Scouts," Marco said firmly. "I won't change my mind based on nonsensical hypotheticals."

Jean looked at him for a moment. Then he looked around furtively. Marco waited, and realized he needed to meet up with his squad. Their minute had to be over by now. He looked toward HQ when Jean grabbed the front of his shirt, pulled him close, and kissed him on the mouth.


	16. Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a silly chapter.
> 
> Unrelated, I am tired of this title, which was just a placeholder when I started. Anybody have any suggestions?

16 June 848

Marco rushed out the door of the back office into the customer area. He prayed Mr. Shadis hadn't noticed, because it would really suck to get fired on his birthday. He grabbed a pad and pen, slipping them into the apron's pocket.

He looked over the cafe's seating space, and saw several tables occupied. He noticed his friend Armin sitting with someone in a corner booth. He was holding some sort of small wood tablet up, keeping it half a meter from his face and moving it around while looking at the side of it facing him. Armin's guest, an elefaunt, seemed really annoyed. Marco worried that the creature, who looked just like he imagined it from Armin's descriptions, would gore him with those giant tusks.

"Morning, Armin!" Marco said, drawing his friend's attention. 

"Hi, Marco," Armin said. "Isn't this fascinating?"

"You mean your friend?" He indicated the elefaunt, whose gaze turned to him. Marco pulled back a bit, worried it might hurt him now.

Armin rolled his eyes. "We barely know each other."

"I thought you said that elefaunts didn't live behind the Walls," Marco said, taking out his notepad. "That they lived in a land called... Africa?" Marco was immediately distracted, seeing that the small flat box --it wasn't wood, or at least no kind of wood he'd ever seen-- had some sort of one-way window on it that Armin was looking at everyone else through. "You invent that?"

"Of course," Armin said. "I'll take an iced tea, and the lady will have the steak."

"Excellent choice, Armin," Marco smiled. The elefaunt seemed to approve as well, as it brayed in delight.

"She your girlfriend?" Marco asked. 

"Fiancé," Armin said nonchalantly. 

"But if you barely know her..."

"Never mind that, Marco. See the device I invented? I use it to make super realistic drawings that capture a moment in time."

"Really? Sounds neat."

"Here." Armin handed the small device to him. The window just showed what was on the other side. He flipped it over and saw it was solid... something, except for a tiny circle of glass near the top  Was it glass? "It also allows you to send letters and talk to people around the world instantly."

"That's cool," Marco said, amazed. He flipped it back to look at the window side, and saw that it had a drawing on it. It was amazing... better than any portrait he'd ever seen. It was a picture of his friend Eren, holding hands with a very small but adult-looking man, while sitting on a sofa together. Eren's green eyes were bright and happy, and he smiled, while the man he was with seemed almost disdainful of his presence. Eren's head lay on the man's shoulder.

"Who is this with Eren?" he asked, looking at Armin. If Marco didn't know better, he'd have thought this older man --who had to be thirty, at least-- was Eren's boyfriend. But that was crazy.

"His destiny," Armin shrugged. "At least, that's what all the girls want."

"What girls?"

"Never mind, Marco! Look at your own destiny!" Marco looked back down at the device -- _What's he call this amazing thing?_ \-- and saw himself and Jean Kirstein. In the image, he stood behind Jean, his face nuzzling the side of Jean's head, his arms around Jean's shoulders. Jean's face betrayed an embarrassed happiness, his body leaning into the embrace. There was a clear intimacy in the contact that went beyond just their friendship.

"But... this is wrong. I couldn't..." Marco stammered. 

"These are only things that could happen, if things turn out differently," Armin said. Next to him, the elefaunt nudged Armin with its long nose. Marco ignored it, even though he knew it was annoyed he hadn't gone back to place the order.

"Turn out differently? What could possibly make this happen?"

"Aw, Marco. If you only live long enough..."

"I'm going to die?"

"Yeah, and pretty young, too. But now's your chance to change things."

"What?"

Armin pointed to another table. There he saw Jean, who was sipping from a mug with a book open in front of him. Jean was wearing a T-shirt and underpants, his normal sleeping attire. He was also wearing very smart spectacles, like Mr. Bader, their science instructor.

"Do it, Marco," Armin said, "you don't want to die alone, do you, unmourned? I have my elefaunt here, who loves me forever, but who do you have? You're never going to want girls, 'cause you're crazy, but... Jean's kind of effeminate. Look how he crosses his legs."

"That's dumb," Marco said. Sure, it wasn't the most masculine way to sit...

"Come on, Marco. Go for it! Go! Go! Go!"

"All right," Marco said, and he wondered how he could be so daring. This was very unlike him.

He stepped up to Jean's table, and stood over Jean. Jean looked up at him and smiled. "Hey, Marco. Nice to see you this morning. I love your mom!"

Marco smiled back at him. Jean had said that last night, after he introduced his friends to his family. It helped a lot that his mom was a great cook.

"Jean, I... I love you, and I want to be with you forever. Can we live together in the interior?" Again, he was surprised by his directness.

"Yeah, sure. Wanna have sex?"

"Um, yeah," he said quietly, belying his ecstatic feelings. "But how do two boys have sex?"

"I put my cock in your butt." Marco had thought that might be the case. Jean took off his spectacles, and then pulled his shirt over his head. Marco looked Jean's torso up and down, appreciating the growing sheath of muscle building up after the better part of a year of training together. He did this often, but surreptitiously. It was really cool to not have to hide his interest!

"Here? While I'm at work?"

"Sure. We can't do it in the barracks, after all. What if Mr. Shadis sees us? We might get in trouble, like Ida and Dirk." He slipped his underpants off, and Marco spied his friend's erection, and his heart leapt into his chest with excitement. Marco could feel his own penis harden, but kind of distantly. From outside. He could also feel his butthole kind of convulse, like it wanted it bad. But again, kind of distantly.

Marco pulled his apron off, then his own shirt and trousers, and shoes and socks. He couldn't keep a coherent thought

(because it's a dream)

because he was too excited. Jean was going to have sex with him! He watched Jean walk around behind him, and felt him pull his underpants off. The act was accompanied by a sound of clapping, as everyone else in the cafe was suddenly standing up, giving applause. There were a couple of whistles, and shouts of "Bravo!" too. Marco felt a weird swell of pride.

He felt Jean enter his butt, and he wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it kind of felt like his butt was gagging, like when he would put his finger down his throat if he needed to induce vomiting. Nonetheless, he liked it, he thought. A lot, apparently, as, after a few moments, he thought he was cumming, but it was kind of distant, too. He didn't really have a good sense of what was going on back there. He only wished there was a way for him to see Jean's face right now.

"Marquito!" his mom called out. He saw her in the entrance of the cafe. For a moment he was terrified. His mom was seeing him being fucked by Jean! "Just 'cause it's your birthday doesn't mean you can just sleep in, niño. You're a soldier now!"

What a weird thing for his mom to say. Like he was sleeping or something... wait, ah, yes. He could kind of feel the pillow under his face.  _I'm dreaming_.

* * *

Marco wrenched himself out of his dream, opening his eyes. He hated when he did this, but it always happened if he realized he was dreaming during one. It was a wholly unpleasant feeling, and he felt completely dizzy and disoriented. He shut his eyes again, trying to right his brain. Right. He was home. Home in Jinae.

He remembered now, and felt a heaviness pushing against his back. As his awareness cleared, he realized there was an arm lying across his shoulder, a leg lying on his own, and...

He felt it. Something lightly poking against the outside of his shorts.

 _Oh my god. Oh god._ The dream. It was fading fast from his mind, but he knew Jean had had sex with him in the dream. Had he in real life? No, no, that couldn't happen. It was ridiculous. Right?

"Marquito!" his mom called out from behind outside the door. "Your other friends are up! You and that Jean boy better get moving! I won't be embarrassed by having a lazy son!"

Marco slowly pulled himself away from Jean, who rolled over, making a disgruntled noise. Marco slipped out the bed, still trying to get his thoughts together. He turned to look at Jean, who was now lying on his back. Jean's erection was a tent in his underpants.

 _I knew this wasn't a good idea. No gap, and Jean just rolled right into my side of the bed._ But at least it was clear that Jean had not had sex with him. That was stupid. What was he thinking? And yet, he realized, his crotch was sticky. Whether from the dream or the accidental physical intimacy with Jean, he had orgasmed in his sleep. He would need to handle his mother without waking Jean, who might notice his stained underwear.

Marco walked over to the door, and opened it a crack. He saw his mom, who was already a dozen centimeters shorter than him, even though he was only thirteen-- fourteen! Today was his birthday! He kept his lower half out of the view of the doorway. "Mami, okay, enough. I guess I'm not used to sleeping in a real bed anymore. Too soft. Jean and I will be down shortly."

"Okay, mijo," she said, flashing him a warm smile. "Just hurry up. You need to be a good host to your friends."

He nodded, and gently closed the door. He was fortunate his mom had always respected his privacy, and hadn't just barged in. Then he might get disowned.

 _Mom wouldn't do that_. Well, probably not. He wasn't sure. She loved him very much, and he loved her the same. Could his deviance end that love? He didn't know.

He looked back at Jean, whose eyebrows were furrowed, as he was apparently somewhat awoken by the short conversation. Marco didn't want to be gross and put on clean underwear without cleaning himself up, but he really didn't have the time to get the water ready for bathing. And it would be bad form to deny his guests the chance to bathe, but heating that much water would be quite the onerous task, and take hours. Even with Marco's soldier stipend supplementing his mom's income, it wasn't enough to have hot running water.

Marco moved over to the dresser, one of the few things in his tiny room. He pulled open his underwear drawer, and pulled out a pair of shorts. He quickly dropped the used ones, and began slipping on a new pair. As he pulled them over his knees, he felt them tear. They were too small! _Idiot_. He'd had to get new clothes in the last few months, as his body had grown quickly with his bulking up and the full onset of puberty. Of course the underwear he left here nine months ago wouldn't fit.

He heard a snicker behind him. Wearing nothing but his shirt, he turned to look at Jean, who was yawning. He was lying on his side, his head propped up in one hand. He had pulled the blankets over his lower body. "Nice bum."

Marco turned away, blushing. "You've seen it before."

"Yeah, but not usually first thing in the morning."

"Well, it was inadvertent."

"Could have worse sights to wake up to. Like Eren's crazy eyes."

Marco said nothing, wondering how he would get new underwear. He had only momentarily thought about clothes when packing for the trip, and hadn't thought to take anything, assuming he would have some at home. He guessed he would just have to go without underwear. At least they'd completed the drills the night prior... some of the maneuvers could really put a strain on one's nether regions.

"Something wrong, Marco?"

"Yeah. Um, I have no underwear that fits."

Jean laughed. "Why can't you use last night's? You shit yourself?"

"No, I, um..."

"Pissed yourself?"

"No."

"Jizzed all over yourself?"

Marco said nothing. Which was really incredibly stupid.  _Say 'no'!_

"You had a wet dream?" Marco could not turn around, he was so embarrassed...

"Oh, come on. Don't tell me you're embarrassed about it. Marco, we sleep barely a meter apart. I've heard you jerking off dozens of times."

Marco felt like he was going to die. He couldn't turn around. He heard Jean get up and move around a bit, then he felt something lightly hit his back. He looked down at the projectile, and saw one of Jean's shorts. "You're bigger than me, I know, but they'll probably fit well enough. If not, want me to go ask Reiner for one of his?"

Marco stared at the underwear, lying slightly to his left. He reached down and scooped them up, putting his feet into them. They were a bit tight, but fit okay. Marco tried not to think about the fact that he was wearing Jean's underwear. "Thanks," he said softly, almost inaudibly.

He finally turned to face Jean, who was putting a pair of pants on over his own shorts. "Marco, you don't need to be embarrassed about shit like that. We're both guys. They kind of have minds of their own."

Marco smiled a little, and reached for his uniform trousers. He would need to buy some new clothes in town today.

"Besides. You're the closest thing I have to a brother."

On the one hand, it was a nice thing to say. But on the other hand, it was a dagger in his heart.

"So... Happy Birthday!"

Marco sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may notice Marco's mom using some Spanish words. I take it that the cultures that once were distinct in the area, aside from the dominant German culture, are kind of blended together, based on their extreme minority status, and of course, the SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER memory wipes. So, I kind of want Marco (a Spanish name) to be kind of half "Mediterranean".


	17. Profit and Loss

1 September 850

Marco fought the instinct to recoil. It wasn't that he was disgusted or anything. Far from it. But it was too startling, too strange, too unbelievable... and too open. 

Jean's lips were pressed against his, very forcefully. It was nothing like being kissed by Thomas. It was all pressure with little movement, the lips tightly shut. Not romantic. Though, in its own way, not entirely unpleasant. 

Only a few seconds had passed, and Marco had not closed his eyes. Partially because he was so terrified, and partially because he was so confused. He looked into Jean's eyes, which _were_ closed. His eyebrows were furrowed, and he looked very determined. Marco understood.

_He's doing this to get me to join the MP. He's doing it because he loves me, even if he has to pretend to love me in that way._

It was just an extension of what he'd been trying (poorly) all along. An attempt to dissuade. To force the very "nonsensical hypothetical" that had just come up into a possibility. Because he feared Marco would die with the Scouts. The arrival of the Titans was making it so real, Jean had gotten desperate. It all made sense.

"Stop," Marco said, pushing Jean's shoulders away from him, forcing Jean's hand from his shirt, and disengaging their lips. For a split second he thought he was crazy to reject the one thing he'd wanted for years now, but it wasn't right. Jean did not have those feelings for him.

"What?" Jean asked, opening his eyes. His lips remained puckered for a second, then relaxed. "Did I... what? Marco? Did I do something wrong?" His features had softened, his determination having given way to confusion.

"You aren't a homosexual, Jean," Marco said. "Pretending to be to get me to join the MP... it's unsustainable. You'd go crazy. Just... let it go."

"How do you know?! You think you know my fucking heart, Marco? Maybe I'm in l- in love with you too! Maybe I just... I didn't realize?" His angry response tapered off. "Shit."

"I appreciate it, Jean. I really do. It's so kind, and... it makes me know you really care. But it won't work. You have to accept I've made my decision."

Jean looked away from Marco for a moment, in the direction of where his squad was waiting for him. Marco realized they'd forgotten their time sensitive duties. He wasn't even sure whether his own squad had gathered yet, or where.

"Okay, Marco," Jean finally said, turning back to him. "This isn't over. But it's not the time. I get it." He closed the gap between them again, and put his hands on Marco's shoulders. "But don't tell me how I feel."

Jean put one hand on the back of Marco's neck, and brought his face forward to once again kiss Marco on the mouth. This time it was gentle, sweet, and relaxed. Marco's skin tingled and his heart leapt in his chest. The kiss was very brief, but different. So very different.

_What the hell just happened?_

Jean turned away from him, and stepped off the edge of the roof. He fired his ODM gear, and began heading toward where his squad was waiting.

"What the hell just happened?" Marco uttered aloud. He stood there for several moments, his mind reeling. Could Jean have flipped some mental switch to be a better fake gay boy? It made no sense. Some last ditch acting reserve? It was crazy... but it was wonderful.

* * *

Marco stood atop a three story building, his squadmates lined up behind and beside him. It had been about an hour since he had gathered his squad together.

When he approached a Garrison officer about their reduced number, he was given special dispensation to head off a man short. The soldier had made no fuss about how long it had taken them to report the issue, which was a lucky break. His lollygagging had gone unnoticed. At least openly. He worried someone, perhaps one of the soldiers at the rear gate with binoculars, had noticed his interactions with Jean. It could be disastrous.

_There you go again, Marco. Get over your personal issues. You have a JOB to do!_

Marco looked around for other soldiers who might signal new actions. He saw no older soldiers in the immediate vicinity. His squad had mostly zipped back and forth over the central Trost area, relaying orders here and there. Very few Titans had made it this far north, and his squad had managed to avoid most of them. Karl Hoffman had a near miss with one, but Annie managed to swing around it and slice its weak spot open, killing it instantly. The squad had given her loads of praise, and Karl H. could not stop giving effusive thanks. Annie responded with her usual minimal words. 

"Marco," Annie suddenly spoke up. "My tanks are about half full. We should head back to HQ for a refueling."

"You're probably right," he replied. "We haven't gotten any orders for a while. The evacuation must be getting close to done by now. We'll need full tanks if we want to ascend Wall Rose." He said nothing more, but he figured Annie didn't need to hear him say that he doubted that would be the end of their troubles. After all, the Armored Titan had not yet shown up, and given the concerted attack five years ago and the Colossal Titan's display of tactics earlier in the day...

He turned to face Garrison HQ, and ordered his squad to move out. As they zipped toward the complex, the highest point in Trost, rain drops began to sting their faces. The clouds had threatened rain for a while now, and the sudden downpour was heavy. Marco gestured to the others to land so they could don their rain gear. The wet roofs would make the trek all the more difficult.

As they landed, Marco noticed that the nearby buildings were practically teeming with cadets. How did this situation come about? He looked around, but could not see a single uniform jacket or cloak with the roses symbol of the Garrison. After putting on his own cloak, he looked around for someone who might be in charge, and spied Jean standing on a nearby roof, talking with Sasha. He gestured for Annie to come with him. 

 _A little soon for a reunion_ , he thought. But Jean was a soldier. Whatever happened between them earlier... they would put that aside for now.

"Jean," Marco said moments after landing. "Sasha. What's going on?"

Jean gave him a look that was momentarily confused, then embarrassed, then annoyed. "We've been abandoned."

"What do you m--" Marco began, but was interrupted by the sound of bells. It was the giant bells at the north end of Trost, signalling that the civilians had been completely evacuated. Marco smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. Sasha also smiled, but Jean was less obviously relieved.

"We should get moving," Marco said, looking toward the north end of town. The visibility was not great, but he could see tiny figures ascending the Wall. A quick stop at HQ and they would have enough fuel to make it out of Trost.  _And then what?_

"Not that simple," Jean said with a sigh of exasperation. "My tank's low. I can make it to HQ, but..."

Jean turned to face Garrison headquarters, drawing Marco's eyes to it. It was a bit distant, but he could see a number of Titans climbing onto the central building. Marco involuntarily gasped.

* * *

Armin sat against a tower on the roof, his eyes wide and unblinking. "Armin?" Marco asked, hoping to get a response, as he bent on one knee to look into his friend's face. Whatever Armin had seen, it had clearly shaken him to his core.

"Is he all right?" Connie asked. "When we found him earlier, he was all staring like that, but then he got up and took off. Now he's doing it again, but he looks even crazier."

"I don't know. I'm no psychiatrist, but I think he's in some kind of shock," Marco replied. This was very bad indeed. They would need Armin's amazing brain if they wanted to figure out a way to get out of Trost. Without a leader, they were floundering. Marco gave a quick glance to Jean, who was looking decidedly miserable.  _C'mon, Jean, get your act together. We need a leader here, and you're a natural..._

He looked back to Armin. "Armin, what's wrong?" he asked softly. He searched Armin's eyes, but his friend refused to focus on anything.

 _Why are you asking?_ Marco thought.  _He's obviously gone through something very, very bad. And his squad is nowhere to be found. Eren's in his squad, I think. Could Eren be...?_

He forced himself to stop thinking that way. There was no confirmation either way. There were other cadets who had lost track of their squads, having gotten separated. It was a hectic and confusing time. There was no reason to assume anything had happened to Eren or anyone else who wasn't here. Except, of course, for Armin's expression.

_Who else was on Armin's squad? I can only remember Eren. I never paid much attention to the other squads. Another strike against my leadership skills..._

"Fuck it," Jean said, and walked over to a ridge and sat down. "We're all dead." Connie followed him over, and they began arguing.

Marco figured Jean could wallow in self-pity for a little while, but he had to get them going soon. Trost was rapidly filling with Titans, and they did not have time to sit around moping. It would only get more dangerous as time went on. How could he get Jean to take the reins of leadership?

Marco watched the interplay between Jean and Connie, as Reiner, Bertolt, and Annie stood to his right. Connie's fervor wasn't putting a dent in Jean's defeatism. Jean was making a lot of good points, and Connie wasn't the best at debating in the best of circumstances.

After a few moments, Connie said, "It's hopeless?" Jean followed it up with a deep sigh. He ran his fingers through his hair, saying "What a dull life this was. If I'd known this would happen, I would've said something sooner."

Despite himself, Marco's ears perked at this. What was he talking about? Him? Or Mikasa? Had he said something to Mikasa? Marco was surprised by this sudden flare of jealousy. What could Jean possibly say to Mikasa that she wasn't already aware of and had completely rejected? She was in love with Eren. _God, you stupid bastard Jean... move on already!_

Marco turned away from Jean and Connie, annoyed at himself for his lack of mental discipline in a crisis. He turned to look at Wall Rose, so near, yet too far to afford them enough gas to scale it. They needed someone with drive, with intelligence, to get them out of this situation, and neither Jean nor Armin were stepping up. Mikasa was off with the Rear Guard, so her skills couldn't be counted on, and even Eren's passion... who knew where he was. Over the Wall? Or...

Marco tried to choke down the feeling of despair that was building in his heart, but found himself unable to stop the rising tide of it. They were going to die here. It was hopeless. Their betters had perished... they were just a bunch of kids.

He heard Annie speak to Reiner, asking him for some direction. Reiner told her to wait until they were gathered. Silly.

"It's no use..." he heard himself say, surprised as the words flowed out of him. "However you look at it, we're _not_ getting out of this city. We're all dead." He looked up at the summit of Wall Rose, and said, "I mean, I'm ready to die and everything... It's just... what am I dying  _for_?" He knew he was a soldier, and his life was there to protect king and country, but, to just stand around and await death... None of his nearby friends said a word in response.

His funk was interrupted by the sound of running, and a shout about Mikasa. He turned to look, shocked to see their valedictorian there. As she called out to Annie, Marco shook himself to get out of this self-pitying turn.

Mikasa asked Annie about Eren's squad, and Annie mentioned that some squads had made it over the Wall. Reiner pointed out Armin nearby, and Mikasa moved toward him. She cried out his name. Armin visibly started.

Marco watched as Mikasa jogged over to the seated Armin, and asked him if he was hurt. Armin scrunched himself up, making himself smaller. She knelt in front of him, but he said nothing, though he seemed to be reacting to her.  _This is bad..._ Marco thought.

Mikasa stood again, and asked "Where's Eren?"

Armin said nothing. 

"Armin?" Mikasa asked again.

At that, Armin looked up, his eyes wide and full of tears. Mikasa jumped at the sudden movement, and Marco himself recoiled a little. It hit him hard. Armin hadn't said it yet, but he knew Eren was dead. His friend for three years... a boy with such great passion and such a big heart... gone.

Mikasa and Armin stared at each other for a few moments, until Armin dropped his gaze. He began to speak, his voice choking on sobs.

"We... the cadets of Squad Thirty-Four..."

_No, not the whole squad!_

"Thomas Wagner..."

Marco felt slammed in the chest. _Thomas... Not Thomas...  
_

"Nac Tius... Mylius Zeremski... Mina Carolina..."

_No, no, no, no!_

"Eren Yeager...

"...these five members... fulfilled their duties...and died valiantly on the field of battle!"

Marco stood there, his mouth agape. Less than a day ago, he, Mina, and Thomas had shared a very intimate experience. And now the other two were dead. The first two people he'd ever kissed. Both dead.

_And you forgot them. You forgot Thomas the moment Jean became a possibility. You bastard..._

Marco could barely handle the grief he was experiencing. Thomas, Mina, Eren... The despair began to sink in deeply, as he watched Armin stare down into his lap, and Mikasa absorbed the information. _She must be devastated._

Marco choked up his feelings as other cadets muttered about their fates. Mikasa would need help to get through this.

"I'm sorry, Mikasa. It should have been me, not Eren. I...wasn't able to do anything!" Armin managed between sobs. "I'm sorry..."

"Armin..." Mikasa said, kneeling down again, and taking Armin's hand. "Calm down. Now isn't the time to be emotional. Now get up." She pulled him to his feet. She dropped his hand and turned around.

"Marco," she began. Marco almost jumped at the sound of his name. This was unexpected. She walked in his direction as she spoke, passing him without looking at him. "If we eliminate the Titans swarming around HQ, we can replenish our supplies and get over the Wall. Correct?"

Stunned, Marco quickly tried to process her words. "Well, yeah... but even with your help, there's just too many..." _  
_

Mikasa abruptly turned to face him, drew her blades, and declared, "I can handle them." Marco let out a scared and confused sound.

She continued, lifting one sword into the air, "I'm strong. Stronger than all of you. I'm very strong. As such, I  _am_ capable of annihilating the Titans there! Even if I have to go it alone."

Marco's mouth hung open with shock. She was being completely irrational.

Mikasa went on, her anger coming to the fore, "As for all of you, you're not only unskilled, you're also cowards and wimps." She pointed her blade at the assembled cadets. "You're a real disappointment. You can just stay here and twiddle your thumbs. Twiddle and watch."

A few cadets began arguing with her. Jan Rosenblatt declared that there was no way she could beat the Titans alone.

"If I can't, I die. It's that simple." She turned away again. But... if I win, I'll live. And the only way to win is to fight!" With that, she launched herself from the rooftop.

Marco watched her sail through the air, and wondered if he had the courage to follow. Fight or die. Win and live.Eren's words.  _He fought_ and _died_.

A few moments passed, Marco momentarily overwhelmed with grief for his friend. He heard Jean mutter, "Your way with words is the real disappointment. You actually considered that motivational..." Marco inwardly agreed that Mikasa's words were not going to work, until he heard the clear sound of blades being drawn.

"I blame you for this, Eren...!" Jean said angrily, with such force he was shaking. He lifted his right blade into the air. "Hey! Since when were we taught to let our comrades fight alone?! Or do you guys _want_ to end up as actual cowards?!" With that, Jean took off to the edge of his roof, followed at his heels by Connie, and launched himself too.

Marco stared at them for a moment as Reiner said something to his right, and he and Annie moved to depart. He sighed deeply and put his hand on his forehead for a moment, and following Bertolt, moved to the launch himself as well.

Quickly checking his gas gauges, he stepped off the wall, and fired a grappling hook into a nearby building. He looked around to get his bearings, and spotted Jean farther ahead, his two-toned hair making him fairly easy to spot. Jean was copying Mikasa's movements (though more efficiently), clearly following her lead.  _Of course. She's the girl he loves._

"Hurry!" he heard Jean command. "Follow Mikasa! Fight as little as possible! Get to HQ before you run out of gas!"

Marco frowned, thinking how fucked up everything was. Thomas was dead. Eren, Mina, Mylius, Nac, all dead. He was once again facing an unsure romantic future, if he even had any future to speak of. _And Eren's dead and Mikasa is now actually a possibility for Jean. Most likely I'll end up a Titan's meal, and then Jean and Mikasa can comfort each other in their shared grief._

 _Pathetic_ , he mentally admonished himself.  _Have you forgotten you are trying to_ survive _? You're thinking about your romantic imbroglios, when Jean is taking control of the situation, and is working to get everyone to live. He's LEADING. Like you never could._

The realization dumbfounded him. Jean was leading. Leading! Like he knew he was always capable of! Was he leading because he wanted to save _Mikasa_ , or was he leading because he wanted to _save_ Mikasa, not to mention all the rest of them? Did it matter?

Marco smiled with pride for his friend, and, to a lesser extent, his own perception.  _If you can get us out of this, Jean, I will happily give you and Mikasa my blessing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long-time no post! Sorry for the length of this, and the continued novelization. I had to deal with the deaths of Mina and Thomas, and couldn't really put it in without a lot of going over material from the show. I hope it's not too boring...


	18. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, the song choice is a little trite, but it has great personal meaning for me.

3 September 849

"Now, I know my mom came on strong yesterday," Jean said as they slowly walked down Reevesstrabe toward Jean's house. "But she's really an okay person, once you get to know her."

Marco chuckled. "She didn't seem bad to me at all. Just like a mom."

For a moment, he saw Jean's eyebrows knit in irritation, but then relaxed, and he smiled. "Yeah, I guess so."

Yesterday had been a very strange day. The cadets had arrived in Trost, the walled city at the southern edge of human territory. Trying to take in all the sights and sounds, it was weird and familiar, but also alien to Marco, as he hadn't been there since he'd been a lot younger. Since his father died, more than six years earlier. They'd barely arrived when Jean's hackles had gone up, with him being particularly obnoxious and irritable. After doing their exercises for Commander Pixis, Marco later discovered that the eccentric leader of the Garrison had set up a cooking competition between Jean and Sasha. Marco had been on the sidelines for most of that strange rigmarole, but he had been in the dining hall as Jean's mother showed up. Jean was mean to her, and it brought back some of Marco's long buried disgust at some of Jean's more prickly personality traits. However, at the strangely very late presentation of the food to Pixis, Jean surprised everyone by presenting to Pixis a reheated omelet Jean's mother had prepared for him. That somehow earned Jean the victory, which made no sense at all (Marco's mouth had been watering at the smell of Sasha's pork roast!). Whatever caused Jean's change of heart, he had acted overtly kind and friendly toward everyone, including his supposed rival, Sasha. He had come up to Marco after the event, and asked him if he wanted to spend their leave time together with his family. Turnabout being fair play, and all that.

Jean put a hand in front of his mouth as he yawned. With Pixis's event lasting through dawn after a busy day of hunting and cooking, he was exhausted, as many of the cadets were. Marco himself had decided to get to sleep early, and wake up early enough to see the contest results, so, though he was a bit tired, he was rested enough.

Marco slapped a hand on Jean's shoulder, and said, "You should probably take a nap soon after we get there."

"I'm fine," Jean replied. "And we're here anyway."

Marco looked at the building Jean indicated was his home. It was three stories tall, and fairly large. It looked a little big for a family of three, but then again, he knew Jean's father, Manfred Kirstein, ran a fairly successful business. Marco couldn't recall what it was exactly, but he was sure he'd find out over the next two days. For a moment he felt a pang of jealousy at Jean's family life, but then he pushed the feeling away. It was silly to resent others for their good fortunes.

"Jean Boy!" Juliette Kirstein cried out as she opened the front door and ran out to them. She looked very worried, and began looking over him, much as she had done yesterday. This time, instead of looking horror-struck, Jean smiled, and let her check him over. After a moment, he said, "Hello, Mom," and gave her a warm hug and a kiss. Marco couldn't help but smile at the flip of Jean's personality. It was almost scary.

Mrs. Kirstein seemed taken aback as well. "Oh, you are in a much better mood today! Was it my omelet?"

Jean laughed. "Something like that."

Mrs. Kirstein turned toward Marco. "And who is this handsome young man? Jean Boy, have you brought a present for your mother?" Marco and Jean both turned bright red at that.

"Mom!"

"Oh, I'm just joking! You must be Marco!" She went up to him and gave him a kiss on each cheek. Marco knew this was a custom of people in the western lands. He found he liked it.

"Yes, ma'am," Marco said. "I'm very pleased to meet you."

"I'm so glad Jean has a real friend!"

"Mom!"

"He wrote a lot about you, you know! On those occasions he writes. Which is not enough for my liking, but getting my Problem Child to do what his mother wants has always been difficult."

Jean's mood was quickly tilting away from pleasant happiness to annoyance, and he knew if something didn't change soon, Jean would fly off the handle.

"Mrs. Kirstein," Marco began, "do you think we could go inside? I'd like to put my bag down."

"Oh, of course," and she smiled broadly. "Come on in!"

* * *

16 June 848

"So, Jean," Marco's mom started, "Marco tells me that you are a perfect leader..." As his mother said this, Marco was putting a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth, and nearly choked as a result.

"Not this again," he heard Eren say. His heart pounding, Marco looked to Jean, who was frowning. Jean sat two seats to Marco's left at the overcrowded table. He held his breath as he waited for Jean to respond.

As one of the few cadets in the 104th to hail from Jinae, he had the chance to go home instead of staying at the encampment outside town. Jean had invited himself over to Marco's, but Connie had heard, and guilted him into letting him stay too. Soon Sasha was complaining about being left out of a potential home-cooked meal, and then Marco was forced to invite a slew of people. He managed to get the number limited to ten of his friends, as he couldn't overburden his mother. Of course, that had come with guilt of its own. He remembered the disappointed expression on Thomas Wagner's face...

After coming downstairs, Lidia Bodt had shoved Marco and Jean into the dining room/kitchen area, where a pair of tables had been shoved together to give everyone room to sit together. There were no chairs available, as his friends Mikasa, Armin, Connie, Sasha, Reiner, Ymir, Krista, Eren, and Mina, and his little brother and sister, Giorgio and Luisa, sat around it, all expectantly staring at them as they arrived. Marco quickly went over to Giorgio and lifted him up, offering his seat to Jean, who took it with a satisfied smirk. Giorgio forced himself into the seat occupied by Luisa, which they were now awkwardly sharing. Marco now stood next to his siblings' seat. Breakfast had been brought out, mostly oatmeal and eggs, and the crowd had dug in quickly.

"Did he? In one of those nightly letters?" Jean said after a moment, apparently deciding to take the statement in stride.

"It hasn't been nightly for a while," Luisa complained. "We don't get to hear about the adventures of Jean so much anymore!"

Ymir snickered.

"Stop exaggerating," Marco said, a little forcefully, to his sister.

"She's not," Giorgio chimed in. "Isn't Jean your boss?"

Eren made a sound of disgust.

"No. You guys misunderstood."

"Did they?" Ymir said snidely.

"Jean _is_ bossy," Sasha said between mouthfuls.

"Be quiet, Potato Girl," Jean said.

Sasha inhaled sharply. "I thought everybody had forgotten about that!"

Connie shook his head and laughed. "Nobody will ever forget that!"

Conversation moved on, but Marco kept looking at Jean to see his reactions. He didn't seem to be fazed. Marco inwardly sighed. Why would his mom put him on the spot like that? He looked at his mother.

She was staring at Jean, with what looked like a suspicious eye. What was that about?

* * *

3 September 849

Marco took a sip of tea, and sat back in his seat. Juliette Kirstein was chatting at them about how harrowing the evacuation drill had been yesterday. At the other end of the sofa, Jean sat with his bare feet up on a small table, crossed at the ankles, and was doing a poor job of staying awake. His eyelids were drooping, and his tea sat untouched on another table adjacent to the sofa.

"Well, when I was running along, I ran into Mrs. Wagner, and she told me that young Thomas had already stopped by before the drill, I knew, Jean is going to try and pull something. He always acts so embarrassed by me, but he always comes home to me sooner or later. He--" She stopped, noticing he had fallen asleep. "Oh dear. My poor little one. So tired from his work at being a soldier."

She stood up, and walked over to where he was dozing. She took one of the pillows on the sofa, lifted his head, and placed the pillow to make him more comfortable. She kissed his forehead, and began humming something. Marco watched this, and was confused as to how Jean could ever say something bad about this kind woman, who clearly loved her son.

She went over to a closet, and pulled out a blanket. She placed it over him.

"Come with me, Marco," she said, beckoning him to follow her. He followed her into the kitchen, where there was a small table with three seats around it. She gestured for him to sit, and he did, putting his tea down on the surface. She went to the stove and poured herself some more tea before sitting next to him.

"What's that song you're humming, ma'am? It's very pretty."

"Oh, it's an old song passed down in my family. There are some tales attached to it. It's in an extinct language that some of my ancestors knew. Here, I'll sing you the chorus."

She sang something that he could not make out, though it sounded like it could almost be a cousin to the common language.

"What do the words mean?" he asked.

She smiled. "The song is called 'You Are My Sunshine'. It's about loving someone very much. The song is meant for lovers, but I think of it as a song about love in general."

She recited the chorus:

"You are my sunshine,

my only sunshine.

You make me happy

when skies are grey.

You'll never know, dear,

how much I love you.

Please don't take my sunshine away."

As she finished, Marco saw Mrs. Kirstein's eyes mist up. He wanted to say something or comfort her, but she quickly rubbed her eyes and smiled at him. "It always makes me sad because Jean has always been my sunshine, and I fear him being taken away from me. He talked about being a soldier for years before he actually joined. When the Titans attacked, I was so afraid he would go through with his plans. I know he's strong, and smart, and very capable... but I still fear for my beautiful boy."

"Can you teach it to me? The song?" he asked. He wasn't sure exactly why, but he felt deeply that he wanted to know this song.

"Oh, sure, if you want." Marco smiled and thanked her.

"You're a very polite boy, Marco," Mrs. Kirstein said. "And I can tell you and Jean are very good friends, and I am very happy about that. He has such a difficult time making friends. He tries so hard, but everybody rejects him. He's a good boy. You really like him, don't you?"

Marco blushed. "Yes, ma'am," he said after a moment. "He's my best friend."

"Yes..." she trailed off. She pat his arm and stood up again. "I'll teach you the song as we prepare the evening meal."

* * *

16 June 848

"Marco," his mother said as they perused the market for clothes. His friends had spread about in the market, with Luisa and Giorgio inexplicably staying with Jean. He felt awkward about their bugging him, but he seemed to be taking their childishness in stride. For a moment, Marco had thought Jean might be a good father someday, and that made him feel even more awkward, as he blushed at the strange thought.

"Yes, Mami?" he responded, looking away from the trousers he was inspecting. He immediately grew concerned, as she looked worried. "What's wrong?"

"I was just thinking about that Jean boy," she said softly. Marco's head whipped over to where he had last seen Jean, alarmed. He quickly found him looking bored as Luisa posed with a hat. He shook his head.

"Is something wrong with him?"

"No, he's fine, I guess," she said, sounding a little sad. "I was just remembering how you _do_ mention him a lot in your letters."

"I... I do?" He didn't know why, but he suddenly felt scared.

"Yes. I mean, not that it matters."

_Then why bring it up?_

"I just worry that you are not giving yourself a chance to shine."

Marco bit back the urge to roll his eyes. "Have you been talking to Armin?"

"Oh, she's a nice girl!"

"Uh..."

"Have you found any sparks between you and anyone? You're starting to grow up, and my handsome son will have to choose a wife soon!"

"Mami..."

"I know, I know," she smiled. "I'm being silly. And it's your own business. It's just surprising that you never mention anything like that. When I was fourteen, I had already fallen in love a dozen times!"

He swallowed. "It's a lot harder for a soldier. We have to work intensely all the time. It doesn't leave a lot of room for romance."

"Yes, of course. I'm sorry, mijo. And you're young yet."

"Yeah," he said. He took a moment, and despite his better judgment, asked, "What does this have to do with Jean?"

She hesitated for a moment. "Nothing. I just want you to take care of yourself before you take care of others."

He smiled. "You might as well ask me to not have freckles."

* * *

3 September 849

Manfred Kirstein had arrived just before the evening meal began, waking his son up and moving him into the dining room. Marco helped serve, with Juliette (she had insisted he call her that) praising how "domestic" Marco was. The meal was pretty good, though nothing like his own mother's cooking. Jean seemed a little refreshed, enough to start bragging about his various exploits. Mr. Kirstein wasn't a man of many words, but Jean and Juliette spoke enough to get them through the meal fairly entertained.

After the meal, Marco and the family played a few rounds of a card game Marco had never heard of, learning the rules as he went along. Afterward, Jean volunteered Marco to help clean up the kitchen.

The two boys washed the pots slowly, talking about the games, and the exercises from the day before, and plans for when they were MPs in the interior.

"So," Jean said abruptly, "I hope my family's been good to you so far."

"Yeah, they're great. Your mom's very... lively."

"Yeah, a real b-- live one."

"You should be nicer to her."

"Yeah, I should." Marco was a little taken aback by this admission. He said nothing.

"So, you feel as welcome as I did back in Jinae?" Jean said.

"I guess. You never really told me how you felt last year."

"Oh. Huh. Yeah, it was cool. Your mom's really sexy."

"Ugh, please, Jean!" He splashed Jean with the soapy water. Jean smiled, and splashed him back. For a moment Marco hesitated, acting as if the fight was over, before splashing him back again, soaking Jean's shirt. Jean then grabbed him, and tried to shove him into the sink. Despite Marco's greater size and strength, Marco let him push him in somewhat, then flipped him around and tried to do the same to Jean. Their legs got tangled, and they both fell to the ground. After briefly untangling themselves, panting, Jean leapt onto Marco, and two were soon full on wrestling. 

After a few minutes, Marco let Jean pin him. While he had really been enjoying it, he realized he had gotten an erection, and was afraid of what Jean might say. Apparently not having noticed, Jean acted insufferably superior with his "victory". Jean took off his soaked shirt and returned to the dishes. Marco waited for a moment, then took off his own shirt and joined his friend. As he finished the task, he thought about how nice it would be to take off more of Jean's clothes.

* * *

16 June 848

"Is Armin your girlfriend?" Giorgio asked. Marco frowned, while Jean burst out laughing. Jean and Marco had retired to Marco's house so Marco could change out of his uniform. The twins had come with them. Jean had asked to hang out in their house for a while, as he wanted some time away from the others, so they now sat around the Bodt living room, not doing anything in particular. Luisa was sitting next to Jean on the sofa. Well, more like lying against him. Marco sat in a chair across, with his brother lying across Marco's lap, occasionally kicking or elbowing him.

"No, stupid," Luisa said, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Armin's a boy."

"Luisa, don't call people stupid," Marco chided.

"Oh," Giorgio said. "Is he your boyfriend?"

"No, stupid," Luisa said. "Boys don't have boyfriends."

"Luisa..." Marco began.

"Armin's Eren's boyfriend," Jean joked. Marco shot him a look.

"You're not helping."

"Meh," Jean replied.

"You're my boyfriend," Luisa declared. Grinning, Jean looked down at her.

"Am I now? Well, then I guess we'd better..." and he leaned down toward her, "...kiss!" He puckered his lips in an exaggerated way. Her eyes grew wide, and she scrambled away from him, squealing as she ran away. Giorgio leapt off of Marco, and followed her out of the room, puckering his own lips and making smooching sounds.

After a moment, Jean said, "Cute kids."

Marco smiled wistfully. "They're growing up so fast."

"Isn't it just so sad, Grandpa?"

"Hey, I haven't seen them in nine months!"

"So, hey, Armin not being your type... who is?"

"What?" Marco started. That was a sudden turn.

"What sort of girl is your type? You never talk about it."

"I don't know. It's never been that big a deal for me."

"Okayyyyy...", Jean said, arching an eyebrow. "Let's see...Who's hotter? Annie or Krista?"

Marco thought for a moment.  _Why is everybody so interested in my love life all of a sudden? Happy birthday to me..._

"Krista. Annie looks too..." Marco felt shame for talking about his female friends' appearances. "Her eyes. You know."

"Yeah," Jean said, looking contemplative. "It's like she has no soul."

"I wouldn't go that far. Besides, what about your eternal crush? Mikasa. Her eyes..."

Jean continued to look thoughtful. "Yeah. It's really her hair, though. That beautiful black hair..."

"I've got black hair," he mumbled without thinking. There was silence. Marco, who had been looking down at his lap, realized what he had said and looked up at Jean, and tried to hide his terror. Jean's eyebrow was arched again. Then he smiled.

"You're a pretty girl too, Marco," Jean said, chuckling. "But seriously, how great would it be if you were a girl? I wouldn't have to do this dance shit with you. You and me are already friends. If not for that fucking Eren..."

Marco sighed and faintly laughed. "Yeah... if only..."

* * *

3 September 849

The boys went out into the living room, neither wearing a shirt, and Jean announced that they were off to bed. When Jean's parents looked up, Mr. Kirstein barely acknowledged them, while Juliette's eyebrows went high on her head. Marco suddenly felt like he was exposed, as if Juliette could see through him. She stood up, and beaming, went over to them. She gave each of them kisses on both their cheeks. "Good night, Marco! Good night, my sunshine!"

"Night," Jean returned, stifling a yawn. He bounded up the stairs to the third floor, where his bedroom lay, Marco following. As they entered, Marco remembered the single bed, and felt a moment of fear and excitement.  _Nothing's going to happen. Why do I do this to myself?_

Jean quickly took off his trousers, and jumped into the bed. Jean didn't usually sleep shirtless. "Aren't you going to get ready for bed?"

"Man, I'm too tired. Still beat from the stupid cook off. Dumb shit that was..." He said this last with a smile. He began burying himself in the blankets.

"I should wash up before..."

"Do whatever you want."

"Yeah..." Marco went to his bag, and got his toiletries. A few minutes later, ready for bed, he looked at Jean, who was asleep. Remembering that night from two years ago, he sighed.

Marco usually slept with a shirt on, but tonight, whether because he saw Jean do it, or because he was feeling frisky, or feeling brave, or stupid, or something, he didn't bother to put one on. He sat down on the bed, and slipped in next to Jean.

Putting out the lamp, he lay there for a while, listening to Jean's soft snores. He turned to face him. As always, Jean's harsh features were softened as he slept. 

Marco leaned in close. His mouth was inches away from Jean's, so close as to feel the other boy's hot breath on his lips. He wanted to kiss him so badly... but he couldn't. Jean would never feel that way about him. Could never.

Marco sighed, and whispered softly, "You'll never know, dear..."

* * *

17 June 848

Marco's friends began to walk off, toward the encampment outside town, some waving back at the twins and Marco's mother. Jean walked a little bit more slowly than the others, as if waiting for Marco to come along. Marco turned away from them, and looked at his family. 

"I wish I could come back soon, but I'm not sure how long it will be. It's pretty much non-stop work, and this leave is unusual."

"I understand, mijito," his mother said. "Just come back when you can."

"Right." He bent down and hugged his brother and sister in turn, with Giorgio crying, but Luisa managing to keep her tears in check. Marco then embraced his mother. "I love you, Mami."

"I love you more," she returned. "No matter what." Marco pulled away to look at her, and saw tears in her eyes. His own eyes beginning to water, he was not surprised by the words, but there was something more there than usual, though he wasn't sure what. He smiled at her, and softly said, "Thank you."

* * *

4 September 849

Juliette Kirstein kissed Jean on both his cheeks, hugged him, and let him go. "I love you, kid."

"I love you too, Mom," Jean returned, if a bit reluctantly. Marco turned to go with Jean, when Mrs. Kirstein beckoned him. "Marco!"

"Yes, Juliette?" Marco asked awkwardly. She had already kissed him goodbye.

"My boy... I know you love him very much. And he loves you. So please. Take care of him. He's my only sunshine..."

"I... yes, ma'am. I can promise you, I will die before I let anything happen to Jean."


End file.
